THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 


SOUTHERN  HEARTS 


By 

FLORENCE  HULL  WINTERBURN 


Author  of  "  NURSERY  ETHICS,"  and  "  FROM  THE 
CHILD'S  STANDPOINT" 


NEW  YORK 

THE  F.M.  LUPTON  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
1900 


COPYRir.HT,  iqoo, 
BY  THE  F    M.  LUPTON  PUBLISHING  COMPANY. 

Southern  Hearts. 


PS 


fc  MY  VIRGINIA  FRIENDS  ; 

H 

^  ESPECIALLY  TO 

THAT  ONE  OF  THEM   WHO   LIVES   IN   MY   MEMORY 

8 

3  AS   THE 

TYPE  OF  ALL  THAT  IS   SINCERE, 
JT  HOSPITABLE  AND   KINDLY 

in 

CM  IN   THE 

g 

S  SOUTHERN   CHARACTER, 

THIS  VOLUME  IS  CORDIALLY  INSCRIBED 

«  BY  THE  AUTHOR. 

OL 

X    . 
O 

o 

a 


13 
< 


O  EVERAL  of  the  stories  in  this  volume  have 
O  appeared  in  the  magazines ;  three  are 
entirely  new.  For  courteous  permission  to 
reprint  thanks  are  due  the  publishers  of  "  Ro 
mance,"  "  Godey's  Magazine,"  "  The  Ladies' 
World,"  and  "  The  Independent." 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

WHEN  LOVE  ENSLAVES 1 1 

THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO 41 

PETER  WEAVER 153 

A  HALT  AT  DAWN 263 

PINK  AND  BLACK 291 

MRS.  MAY'S  PRIVATE  INCOME 311 

THE  LAZIEST  GIRL  IN  VIRGINIA 339 

AN  AWAKENING 365 

APPLE  BLOSSOMS 389 


WHEN  LOVE  ENSLAVES 


SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 


WHEN  LOVE  ENSLAVES. 


IT  was  a  beautiful  morning  of  early  October 
in  the  mountain  region  of  Virginia.  The  old 
Fitzhugh  homestead,  now  the  property  of  an 
Englishman  who  had  married  the  only  daugh 
ter  of  the  impoverished  family  and  bought  in 
the  home  from  creditors  with  good  British 
gold,  reared  its  dull  red  sides  from  amid  a  mass 
of  sugar  maples,  larches  and  sycamore  trees, 
and  seemed  with  its  widely  opened  doors,  to 
proclaim  an  endless  hospitality.  The  passer 
by  caught  a  glimpse  of  rambling  out-houses 
whose  chimneys  shed  lazy  wreaths  of  smoke 
from  pine  wood  fires,  and  if  near  enough 
he  might  have  sniffed  the  pleasant  odor  of 
savory  cookery  from  the  rear  building  where 

'3 


I4  SO UTHERN  HEAR TS. 

Aunt  Rose,  the  old-time  cook,  exercised  her 
skill  to  please  her  epicure  master,  or  tempt 
the  less  robust  appetite  of  her  young  mis 
tress. 

Mrs.  Meeks  stood  at  this  moment  in  the 
middle  of  the  sitting-room,  her  arms  clasped 
over  a  broom,  and  her  dark  eyes  gazing  upon 
the  floor  in  front  of  her.  But  her  meditations 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  rug  where  the 
broom  rested,  nor  yet  with  the  sun-lit  slope 
of  the  Blue  Ridges  that  extended  in  all  their 
wealth  of  autumn  beauty  in  front  of  the  open 
windows. 

She  was  thinking  of  Mr.  Meeks.  He  had 
just  left  the  house,  and  as  not  infrequently 
happened,  had  left  the  sting  of  sharp  words 
behind  him.  Yet,  not  exactly  sharp,  either. 
Overbearing,  dogmatical  words,  not  intention 
ally  cutting  ones,  for  that  was  not  the  nature 
of  the  man  ;  but  words  that,  said  in  his  tone 
of  command,  bore  heavily  upon  sensitive  feel 
ings. 

Mrs.  Meeks  was  sensitive.     That   was  evi- 


WHEN  LOVE  ENS  LA  VES.  j  5 

dent  in  every  line  of  her  softly  rounded  face, 
but  the  red  lips  that  were  curved  in  Cupid's 
bow  could  straighten  and  stiffen  when  she 
was  roused  into  one  of  her  rare  moods  of  de 
termination.  Mr.  Meeks  called  these  moods 
"  tantrums,"  although  his  wife  always  spoke 
low  and  never  lost  her  good  manners.  She 
had  been  reared  by  a  grandmother  who  was 
one  of  the  last  of  the  Southern  dames  of  the 
ancien  regime,  and  would  have  died  before 
she  would  have  condescended  to  a  rough  and 
vulgar  quarrel. 

It  was  the  opposite  trait  in  Mr.  Meeks  that 
hurt  her.  He  was  inclined  to  quarrel  on 
slight  occasion.  He  had  not  the  least  idea  of 
his  defect  of  temper  ;  it  was  always  clear  to 
him  that  he  was  in  the  right,  and  people  who 
differed  from  him  were  wrong.  They  quar 
reled  with  him.  If  people  would  do  what  they 
were  told,  he  would  never  have  cause  to  get 
out  of  humor.  This  lordliness  of  tone  did  not 
set  ill  on  a  man  presiding  at  town  meetings, 
and  explaining  to  badly  informed  clients  the 


!  6  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

intricacies  of  law.  In  these  cases,  suavity 
and  a  fine,  melodious  voice  were  the  decent 
coverings  of  an  egotism  that  wore  less  dis 
guise  when  he  was  laying  down  the  law  to 
the  little  woman  at  home. 

It  had  been  only  an  agreeable  sort  of  mas 
terfulness  in  the  courting  days.  Then  it  had 
seemed  to  the  romantic  girl  that  yielding  her 
will  to  a  tender,  protecting  lover  gave  to  their 
relation  a  delightful  exclusiveness,  as  con 
trasted  with  other  relations.  But  in  three 
years  she  had  learned  that  what  from  one 
point  of  view  is  agreeable  authority,  be 
comes  from  another  point  of  view  distasteful 
restraint.  Besides,  the  fiber  of  the  American 
woman  which  yields  sweetly  to  suggestions 
of  warmer  wraps  and  the  reserving  of  dances, 
is  less  compliant  under  complaints  of  neglected 
hose  or  bad  management  of  fuel. 

Still,  one  could  conceive  of  a  demeanor  that 
would  have  deprived  even  such  fault-finding  of 
its  sting.  But  the  most  tender  wifely  forbear 
ance  will  bristle  with  resentment  when  such  a 


WHEN  LOVE  ENSLA  VES.  1 7 

slight  matter  as  a  wrongly  folded  white  tie 
calls  forth  allusions  to  a  blissful  and  ante- 
marital  condition  in  which  hired  landladies 
were  attentive  to  a  man's  comfort  ;  and  above 
all,  when  ill-humor  allows  itself  the  parting 
shot  from  the  doorway  of  a  muttered  "  darned 
fool." 

Mrs.  Meeks  had  watched  her  stout,  well-set 
up  husband  drive  away  behind  his  handsome 
bay  horses  to  his  office  in  town,  and  then  fallen 
into  an  unpleasant  fit  of  meditation  over  her 
morning  task  of  putting  the  sitting-room  in 
order. 

The  suggestion  of  Cupid's  bow  had  entirely 
disappeared  by  the  time  she  had  mentally  re 
viewed  the  whole  situation,  and  her  mouth  was, 
as  the  old  black  servant  secretly  observed  as 
she  entered,  "  set  for  a  fight." 

"  Ef  ever  Mis'  Linda  gits  her  back  up  onc't, 
that  air  Englishman  better  look  out  for  his- 
se'f,"  old  Rose  had  confided  to  a  confidential 
friend.  "  I  knows  the  Fitzhugh  blood.  It 
won't  bear  much  puttin'  upon,  now  I  tells  you." 


1 8  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

The  old  family  servant  was  not  particularly 
fond  of  her  Mis'  Linda's  husband,  and  she 
looked  forward  to  that  crisis  when  the  Fitz- 
hugh  blood  would  become  heated. 

"  Laws,  honey,"  she  made  bold  to  say  as 
she  came  forward  and  took  the  broom  into 
her  hard,  muscular  hands,  "  you  go  and  set 
down.  You's  got  no  call  to  worry  yo'se'f  no 
how  'bout  housewuk." 

"  But  you  have  enough  to  do  already,  Rose," 
said  Mrs.  Meeks  kindly,  and  turning  her  eyes, 
in  which  tears  glistened,  away  from  the  with 
ered,  kindly  old  face.  She  dared  not  meet 
the  look  of  sympathy,  being  in  that  humor 
when  even  a  dignified  woman  may  be  melted 
into  indiscreet  confidences  under  the  tempta 
tion  of  a  silent,  intelligent  championship. 

Old  Rose,  however,  began  to  sweep  with 
those  deft,  smooth  strokes  that  raise  no  dust, 
and  with  her  head  bent,  she  talked  along  in  a 
seemingly  purposeless  fashion. 

"  Fs  an  ole  coon,  Mis'  Linda  ;  a  little  extry 
wuk  ain't  goin'  to  hurt  me  none.  You  take 


WHEN  LOVE  ENS  LA  VES.  1 9 

keer  yo'se'f,  honey,  an'  don'  wuk  yo'  good 
looks  away.  An'  don'  fret  'em  away,  neither. 
You  mus'n't  wu'y  yo'se'f,  chile.  Never  was 
er  man  wuth  wu'yin'  over.  Ain't  I  had  three 
husbands?  De  good  Laud,  He  tuk  Jim  an' 
Abraham,  an'  den  I,  like  a  fool,  tuk  up  wid 
Josh.  An'  he  drunk  an'  drunk,  an'  den  he 
cusses  an*  swear  at  me,  an'  me  wu'kin'  myse'f 
like  er  ole  hoss,  and  den  I  jes  gets  up  an'  I  say, 
'  Josh,  I  don*  'low  no  nigger  ter  cuss  at  me  ! ' 
I  says,  '  You  kin  hev  de  inside  of  dis  house 
an*  I'll  tek  de  outside,'  and  so  I  comes  back 
ter  de  ole  place,  an*  what  Josh  do?  Why, 
Josh,  he  sober  up,  an'  he  'gins  ter  see  den 
w'at  comes  o'  ugliness,  an'  he  follow  a'ter  me, 
an'  heah  he  is,  gard'nin'  fur  Mr.  Meeks.  But 
when  he  comes  home  ter  de  shanty  he  don' 
cuss  at  me  no  mo'.  Bes'  way  is  jes  ter  let  dese 
men  know  dere  place,  honey,  once  an'  fur  all." 
After  old  Rose  had  gone  out  with  the  dust 
pan,  Mrs.  Meeks  sat  still  in  the  rocking-chair 
by  the  window,  from  which  she  could  see 
quite  a  distance  down  the  road  ;  but  her  vision 


20  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

was  turned  too  intensely  inward  to  admit  of 
her  taking  any  interest  in  the  few  passers-by. 

Strange  how  a  single  sentence  coming  at  the 
right  time,  will  have  a  force  that  tons  of  inop 
portune  advice  has  not.  "  Bes*  way  is  jes  ter 
let  dese  men  know  dere  place,  honey,  once  an' 
fur  all."  The  sage,  worldly-wise  policy  of 
this  ignorant  colored  woman,  to  whom  mother- 
wit  had  suggested  methods  culture  could 
scarcely  have  rendered  more  effective,  struck 
a  chord  in  the  heart  of  her  mistress  that  would 
have  failed  to  vibrate  at  any  other  moment. 
When  causes  of  irritation  are  not  present,  one 
is  simply  amused  in  listening  to  recitals  that 
piquantly  set  forth  the  temper  of  the  subject, 
but  when  the  mind  is  oppressed  by  a  sense  of 
long-smothered  injuries,  it  turns  a  very  dif 
ferent  aspect  toward  experiences  that  appear 
similar  to  its  own. 

Mrs.  Meeks  would  not  have  deliberately 
made  herself,  or  permitted  any  one  else  to 
make  comparisons  between  her  husband  and 
Uncle  Josh,  whose  outward  uncouthness  re- 


WHEN  LOVE  ENSLAVES.  21 

moved  him  leagues  distant  from  his  master. 
Yet,  with  that  gentleman's  last  muttered  ex 
pression  smarting  in  her  ears,  she  quailed  at 
the  suggestion  of  a  spiritual  likeness  between 
the  two  beings  in  their  antipodal  tweed  and 
jeans.  Floating  in  upon  her  disturbed  mind 
came  a  certain  rude  epigram  which  she  had. 
heard  in  the  kitchen  years  ago  when,  a  tiny 
girl,  she  was  playing  about  the  door,  and  had 
remembered  because  it  struck  her  as  being 
funny  :  "  All  men's  tar  off  de  same  stick." 

"  True  !"  said  Mrs.  Meeks  bitterly,  the  tears 
falling  now  without  disguise.  "  Men  are  all 
alike.  I  thought  Robert  was  different.  And 
our  life  together  was  to  be  a  heaven  upon 
earth  ?  Well,  this  is  the  end  of  it  all.  I  can 
not  stand  his  temper — I  will  not  stand  it !  " 

How  far  her  resentful  musings  would  have 
extended  if  she  had  been  left  a  while  longer 
in  that  worst  of  solitudes,  the  loneliness  of 
affronted  dignity,  is  uncertain,  for  her  tears 
were  suddenly  checked  by  sounds  of  visitors. 
A  keen-eyed,  vivacious,  middle-aged  woman 


2  2  SOUTHERN  HEAR  TS. 

alighted  at  the  door  from  an  open  carriage 
and  made  her  way  in  without  ceremony. 
Mrs.  Meeks  started  up  with  intent  to  escape, 
but  settled  back  in  her  chair  again  as  her 
visitor  entered  with  the  little  whirl  and  rush 
that  characterizes  the  movements  of  a  lively, 
excitable  woman. 

Her  sharp  black  eyes  took  in  the  situation 
at  a  glance  ;  the  half-arranged  room,  Mrs. 
Meek's  dishabille,  her  despondent  attitude  and 
the  traces  of  tears.  She  advanced  quickly  and 
put  out  both  hands,  exclaiming  in  a  voice  of 
mingled  affection  and  curiosity  : 

"  Linda,  what  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Louise,  for  once  I  am  sorry  to  see 
you  ! " 

These  two  women  were  lifelong  friends  ; 
friends  in  the  sense  in  which  Virginians 
understand  the  term,  their  relations  being  of 
the  sort  that  involves  the  frankest  self-dis 
closure,  and  an  immediate  discussion  of  every 
important  circumstance  entering  into  their 
experience. 


WHEN  LOVE  ENSLA  VKS.  23 

"  Now,  iny  dear,"  said  Louise  Gourlay,  in  a 
husky,  emphatic  voice,  which  to  her  torment 
she  could  never  soften,  "  Providence  sent  me 
here  this  morning.  I  think  too  much  of  you 
not  to  understand  at  once  what  ails  you. 
Mr.  Meeks  has  been  abusing  you  !  " 

Mrs.  Meeks  blushed  and  tried  to  look  in 
dignant,  but  only  succeeded  in  looking  un 
happy. 

"  There  is  no  use  in  talking  about  it,"  she 
said,  bracing  herself  to  encounter  opposition. 
"  Some  things  ought  not  to  be  talked  about. 
It  cannot  help  any.  I  can't  go  back  and  be 
a  girl  again."  There  was  a  slight  pause  and 
a  struggle  after  control,  and  then  she  broke 
out  with  a  sob  :  "  Oh,  Louise,  why  did  I 
marry  ?  " 

"  The  good  Lord  only  knows  why  any  of  us 
marry,"  answered  the  older  woman,  raising  her 
eyes  devoutly.  "  But  I  suppose  the  world  has 
to  be  carried  on  some  way.  It  isn't  so  much 
the  marrying,  after  all,  that's  the  trouble,  as 
the  foolishness  afterward.  Now,  dear,  you  re- 


2  4  SOUTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

member  that  I  prophesied  long  ago  that  Mr. 
Meeks  would  tyrannize  over  you  hand  and 
foot,  if  you  let  him.  A  man  can't  help  trying 
to  rule  the  roost — mercy,  what's  all  that  row 
about  ?  " 

She  broke  off  suddenly  and  got  up  to  look 
out  of  the  window  as  sounds  of  a  great  com 
motion  in  the  garden  turned  the  peaceful 
scene  without  into  one  of  those  miniature 
pandemoniums  not  uncommon  in  the  country, 
where  a  flock  of  hens  follow  a  Robin  Hood  of 
a  spouse  in  his  raids  upon  forbidden  terri 
tory. 

Robin  Hood  in  this  case  was  a  superb  black 
Spanish  cock  with  large  powers  of  leadership, 
and  he  had  succeeded  in  marshaling  his  entire 
female  troop  into  the  geranium  patch  before 
Uncle  Josh,  soberly  hoeing  corn  in  the  rear, 
was  made  aware  of  the  invasion. 

He  ambled  forward,  waving  his  hat  and 
shouting.  Aunt  Rose  ran  out,  waving  her 
apron,  and  the  daring  Robin  Hood,  making 
as  much  noise  as  both  of  them,  strode  back 


WHEN  LO  VE  ENS  LA  VES.  25 

and  forth,  protecting  while  at  the  same  time 
vigorously  protesting  against  the  retreat  of  his 
flock. 

"  Mercy  on  us !  "  ejaculated  Mrs.  Gourlay, 
"  the  hens  are  trampling  over  your  yellow 
chrysanthemums,  Linda." 

Confidences  can  wait,  but  the  peril  of  a 
cherished  flower-bed  is  not  lightly  to  be  set 
aside.  Mrs.  Meeks  was  stung  into  renewed 
interest  in  the  life  she  had  been  upon  the 
point  of  denouncing  as  utterly  devoid  of  sat 
isfaction.  It  was  impossible  to  sit  still  and 
watch  those  lazy,  awkward  negroes  vainly  try 
ing  to  head  off  the  stout-hearted  rooster.  She 
went  out,  at  first  with  rather  a  contemptuous, 
indifferent  air,  but,  as  the  cause  of  provocation 
scuttled  toward  her  she  suddenly  felt  her  in 
definite  sense  of  wrong  against  a  sex  at  large 
become  concentrated  into  fury  toward  this 
small  masculine  specimen,  and  entered  into  the 
chase  with  an  ardor  that  soon  routed  him  from 
the  field. 

She  entered  the  house  half  laughing,  half 


26  SO UTHERN  HEAR  TS. 

frowning  at  the  two  darkies,  who  had  rather 
enjoyed  the  little  excitement. 

"  Aunt  Rose,  you  are  as  bad  as  a  child, 
standing  giggling  there !  You  had  better  be 
making  some  little  cakes  for  lunch.  Miss 
Louise  will  stay." 

"  Laws,  Mis'  Linda,  I  couldn't  he'p  myse'f. 
Dat  rooster,  he  de  wuss  sp'iled  fowl  I  ebber 
see.  He  oughter  be  clapped  inter  de  pot. 
He  got  a  heap  o'  sense,  too,  but  he  done  sp'iled 
tell  he  jes  rotten."  Thus  Rose,  as  she  saun 
tered  back  to  her  kitchen,  to  look  up  eggs  and 
sugar  for  her  cakes.  Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Gour- 
lay  was  saying  : 

"  No,  Linda,  I  can't  stay  to-day.  You  drive 
back  with  me  and  stay  all  night.  It's  an  age 
since  you  spent  the  night  at  my  house.  Come, 
it  will  do  Mr.  Meeks  good  to  show  him  you 
feel  a  proper  resentment.  It's  high  time  you 
took  a  stand." 

"  Stay  all  night  ?  "  said  Linda  slowly.  She 
felt  that  the  significance  of  the  act  would  be 
greater  to  her  husband  than  her  adviser  was 


WHEN  LOVE  ENSLAVES.  27 

aware.  It  would  be  dropping  the  old  life,  put 
ting  a  check  upon  all  the  sweet,  confidential 
relations  that  were  so  dear  to  both,  and  start 
ing  out  in  a  new,  untried  path  of  independ 
ence,  of  separateness  that  might  end  in  com 
plete  alienation.  She  was  a  reasoning  woman, 
used  to  foreseeing  consequences.  Sometimes 
she  was  impatient  of  the  sound  logical  faculty 
that  held  her  impulsive  disposition  in  check, 
and  longed  to  plunge  headlong  into  some  kind 
of  folly,  as  a  child  bound  over  by  a  promise 
not  to  meddle  with  sweets,  has  spasms  of  temp 
tation  which  even  the  certainty  of  illness  and 
castor  oil  are  hardly  sufficient  to  restrain. 

She  got  up  and  walked  slowly  toward  the 
door  that  opened  into  her  own  and  her  hus 
band's  room.  It  was  a  spacious  chamber, 
capable  of  holding  the  belongings  of  two  per 
sons,  and  before  its  wide-open  fireplace  filled 
with  small  logs  ready  for  lighting,  was  drawn 
a  great  easy-chair,  in  which  he  loved  to  recline 
in  the  evenings  with  her  on  a  cushion  at  his 
feet,  while  they  watched  the  blaze  together.  A 


2g  SOUTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

slight,  nervous  shudder  passed  over  Linda  as 
her  dress  brushed  against  the  chair  on  her 
way  to  the  closet  where  her  numerous  hats 
were  arranged  in  their  boxes.  Mr.  Meeks  liked 
to  see  his  pretty  wife  well  dressed,  and  no 
woman  in  the  county  had  such  an  abundance 
of  fine  clothes.  She  took  down  a  fawn-colored 
wool  gown  and  went  to  the  dressing-case  to 
fasten  it  before  the  glass.  A  serious,  tremu 
lous  face  looked  back  at  her,  a  face  made  for 
sweet  looks,  for  happiness,  but  now  shadowed 
by  the  most  miserable  feelings  a  woman  can 
have,  for  "  to  be  wroth  with  one  we  love  doth 
work  like  madness  in  the  brain." 

There,  hanging  on  its  pretty  stand,  was  her 
jeweled  watch,  his  wedding  gift  to  her.  Shin 
ing  on  the  pin  cushion  were  brooches  and  little 
trinkets,  every  one  of  which  marked  some 
pleasant  episode.  A  vase  of  her  favorite  late 
white  roses  gathered  by  his  hands  only  the 
evening  before,  breathed  reproachful  sweetness 
as  she  hastily  bent  over  them. 

But  Linda   was  a  proud  woman  as  well  as 


WHEN  LOVE  ENSLA  VES.  29 

a  tender  one.  The  Fitzhugh  spirit  had  been 
chafed  beyond  endurance  ;  it  could  bear  the 
hurts  of  privation,  of  grief,  ruin  and  all  suf 
ferings  inflicted  by  evil  circumstances  ;  it  could 
not  submit  to  insult.  So  she  named  the  rough 
ness  of  the  man  whose  one  great  fault  had  to 
day  come  to  outweigh  in  her  mind  innumerable 
virtues.  She  called  old  Rose,  gave  a  few  or 
ders  in  a  tone  that  warned  the  servant  to  pre 
serve  silence  in  the  midst  of  surprise,  and  then, 
beside  her  friend  who  kept  up  a  cheerful  flow 
of  talk,  moved  tall  and  stately  toward  the  car 
riage,  and  gazed  dry-eyed,  but  ah,  how  sadly, 
at  the  fine  old  red  brick  dwelling  half-covered 
with  Virginia  creeper  and  clematis,  till  a  turn 
of  the  road  swept  it  out  of  sight. 

The  strong  black  horses  pranced  merrily 
along  the  road,  which  now  on  one  side  lay  be 
neath  the  mountain,  covered  with  the  red,  yel 
low  and  brown  masses  of  forestry  that  in  the 
autumn  glorify  the  earth,  and  in  daily  bleeding 
beauty  divert  a  gazer's  thoughts  from  the  cruel 
frosts  of  night.  To  the  left  a  deep  gorge, 


30  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  K  TS. 

rocky  and  dangerous,  swept  to  the  river  below. 
Two  vehicles,  coming  in  opposite  directions, 

• 

could  barely  pass  each  other,  and  the  driver 
who  had  the  inside  track  might  well  bless  his 
luck.  But  secure  in  the  skill  of  their  black 
Jehu,  the  two  women  gave  no  single  thought 
to  danger,  but  kept  up  their  conversation  inde- 
fatigably.  John,  keen  and  alert,  pulled  up  his 
team  carefully  as  he  heard  the  tramp  of  a  horse 
man  rapidly  approaching. 

The  horseman  also  slowed  up,  and  when 
alongside  stopped  entirely,  to  exchange  greet 
ings.  He  was  elderly  and  distinguished-look 
ing,  despite  his  shabby,  dust-covered  clothing 
and  carelessly-cropped  hair  and  beard.  His 
worn,  melancholy  face  brightened  as  he  swept 
off  his  hat  and  made  careful  inquiries  after  the 
ladies'  health.  Then  he  cantered  on  and  the 
inmates  of  the  carnage  leaned  back  again. 

"  Poor  Colonel  Thomas  !  "  commented  Mrs. 
Gourlay.  "  I  recollect  when  he  was  the  first 
young  man  in  the  county.  He  has  gone  all  to 
pieces  in  the  last  year.  He  was  rather  high 


WHEN  LOVE  ENSLA  VES.  3 1 

once,  but   Amanda    was  too    much    for   him. 
Sam  calls  her  '  Petruchio  in  petticoats.'  " 

Her  tones  smote  her  listener's  ear  as  sounds 
coming  from  afar.  Poor  Colonel  Thomas ! 
Had  he  ever  been  in  love  with  that  sharp- 
tongued  woman  ?  How  terrible  for  a  woman  to 
have  upon  her  conscience  the  wreck  of  a  man's 
life.  If  Robert  should  ever  come  to  wear  that 
bowed  look — if  instead  of  the  proud  confidence 
that  well  became  his  comely  Saxon  features, 
he  should  show  in  sunken  eyes  and  fitful  flush 
the  marks  of  that  ill  remedy  that  promises  but 
never  brings  "  surcease  of  sorrow.  .  .  ."  But  he 
was  too  strong,  too  sane ;  misery  could  never 
drive  him  to  dissipation,  although  it  might 
drive  him  to  desperation  of  another  sort.  Her 
quick  fancy  began  to  picture  Robert  estranged 
from  the  woman  he  loved.  Mentally  she  saw 
him  growing  cold,  gloomy  and  reserved — their 
intimacy  gone  as  if  it  had  never  been,  and  they 
two,  bound  by  unbreakable  ties,  aging  in  sight 
of  each  other,  their  lives  dragging  on  in  a  way 
that  might  come  to  end  in  mutual  aversion  and 


32  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

disgust.  She  knew  that  Robert  would  construe 
her  going  away  to-day,  after  their  cold  parting, 
into  a  determination  to  assert  herself  against 
him,  and  still  worse,  to  seek  abroad  sympathy 
for  that  which  she  was  bound  as  a  loving  wife 
to  bear  in  silence  and  to  forget. 

The  proud  Fitzhugh  blood  flamed  in  her 
cheeks  and  her  head  flung  up  unconsciously. 
But  at  the  same  instant  there  came  into  her 
mind,  as  a  bugle  note  sounds  amid  the  horrid 
discord  of  battle,  a  sentence  Robert  had  ut 
tered  to  her  once  in  the  early  days  of  their 
love,  when  he  had  inadvertently  offended  her 
by  a  careless  remark  :  "  A  man  is  not  to  be 
judged  by  one  word,  but  by  all  the  acts  of  his 
life." 

And  as  if  in  her  mental  struggle  she  had 
been  seeking  some  maxim  as  a  guide,  she  fas 
tened  upon  this  and  repeated  it  over  and  over 
to  herself. 

All  this  time  she  had  been  mechanically 
giving  outward  attention  to  Mrs.  Gourlay,  al 
though  that  shrewd  woman,  comprehending 


WHEN  LOVE  ENS  LA  VES.  33 

her  absent  glance,  made  small  exactions  upon 
her  for  reply.  But  seeing  a  sudden  brightness 
take  the  place  of  her  friend's  dull  gaze,  she 
gave  her  talk  more  point. 

"  Sam  is  home,  my  dear.  He  came  yester 
day,  and  he  says  he  means  to  pay  us  an  old- 
fashioned  visit.  I  hope  the  weather  will  keep 
fine  so  we  can  have  some  dancing  picnics.  He 
declares  they  are  better  fun  than  anything  in 
Philadelphia." 

"  Yes,  I  always  liked  them — when  I  was  a 
girl." 

"  What  are  you  now,  an  aged  woman  ?  Non 
sense,  you  are  even  prettier  than  you  used  to 
be  when  Sam  spent  his  days  on  the  road  be 
tween  our  place  and  your  father's.  Ah,  child, 
you  treated  Sam  badly.  He  never  got  over 
your  marriage,  poor  fellow.  I  don't  know  how 
he  will  bear  meeting  you  to-day,  without  any 
preparation.  But  men's  hearts  bend,  they 
never  break  ;  that's  one  comfort.  Still,  per 
haps  you'd  best  not  flirt  too  hard  with  him." 

Linda  started   and  looked  squarely  at  her 


34  SOUTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

friend.  She  knew  that  in  the  code  of  the  Vir 
ginia  matron,  herself  holding  her  girlhood's 
coquetries  in  dear  remembrance,  such  meetings 
between  old  flames  and  mild  renewals  of  for 
mer  admiration  were  perfectly  harmless  and 
natural.  But  her  husband  would  think  differ 
ently.  He  might  believe  this  meeting  pre 
meditated  on  her  part  ;  believe  that  she  sought 
diversion  of  a  dangerous  and  a  doubtful  na 
ture.  For  she  knew  well,  and  he  had  guessed, 
that  Sam  Hilton's  courtship  of  her  had  been  no 
idle  pastime,  and  that  the  young  Southerner 
bore  the  Englishman  a  grudge  which  would 
make  him  a  swift  partisan  if  there  once  entered 
his  head  the  slightest  suspicion  that  she  had 
reason  to  complain  of  the  treatment  she  re 
ceived. 

Had  she  ?  Her  husband  was  in  general  good 
ness  itself,  all  indulgence  and  kindness  except 
when  wrought  upon  by  outer  irritating  quality, 
or  annoyed  at  carelessness  in  herself.  For  she 
was  forgetful — not  wantonly  careless,  but  lack 
ing  in  that  perfect  method  his  good  taste  de- 


WHEN  L  O  VE  ENSL  A  VES.  3  5 

manded.  He  was  arbitrary — yes — still,  some  of 
the  blame  was  hers,  and  if  they  had  differences 
it  was  her  place  to  give  in.  So  the  wife  told 
herself  in  the  quick  interval  between  Mrs. 
Gourlay's  last  remark,  and  the  turning  of  the 
carriage  into  the  east  fork  of  the  road  that 
marked  half  the  distance  between  the  two 
residences. 

"  Louise,"  she  said  in  an  imperative  under 
tone,  "  tell  John  to  turn  back  and  take  me 
home.  I  must  go  back  this  minute.  If  you 
think  anything  of  me,"  she  added  hastily,  in 
terposing  against  remonstrance,  "  do  as  I  ask." 

"  Now,  Linda,  listen  to  reason.  If  you've 
made  up  your  mind  to  go  back  and  eat  humble- 
pie — excuse  the  truth — at  least  wait  till  after 
dinner  and  Sam  shall  drive  you  back.  It  would 
be  absurd  to  turn  back  now." 

"  Louise — you  don't  understand  my  feeling. 
I  was  wrong  to  come.  Robert  was  to  come 
home  early  this  evening  and  bring  an  old  friend 
just  from  England  with  him  to  stay  a  few  days. 
Think  how  mortifying  to  find  me  gone  away !" 


36  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

"  It  would  look  badly.  Still — serve  him 
right !  " 

"No,  I  was  cross  myself  this  morning — prob 
ably.  I  didn't  mean  to  tell  you  of  our  quarrel 
— our  half  quarrel.  But  never  mind  talking 
about  it,  only,  please  take  me  back.  Or  else 
let  me  walk?  I  can  walk  ;  it's  not  far." 

"  Linda  Fitzhugh  !  Well,  then — John,  Mrs. 
Meeks  has  forgotten  an  important  engagement 
and  we  must  take  her  straight  home  again. 
Can  you  turn  the  carriage  here?  " 

"  Reckon  I  kin,  m'm,"  said  John  sulkily,  and 
the  horses  were  turned  about. 

Mrs.  Gourlay  glanced  at  her  watch  and  said 
resignedly  : 

"  It  will  be  half-past  one  by  the  time  I  am 
back,  and  the  children  will  be  savage,  for  I 
promised  them  I  wouldn't  stay  long  this  morn 
ing.  But  you  always  have  your  own  way  with 
me,  Linda.  I  wish  you  were  half  as  spunky 
with  somebody  else." 

"  Don't,  dearest,"  Linda  entreated,  the  color 
rising  in  her  cheeks. 


WHEN  LOVE  ENSLAVES.  37 

"  I  will  say  it.  If  you  keep  on  giving  in  this 
way  to  a  man's  temper,  you'll  end  by  not  dar 
ing  to  say  your  soul's  your  own." 

"  Robert  is  imperious,  perhaps,"  the  young 
wife  answered  slowly.  "  But  that  is  between 
him  and  me.  If  I  can  stand  it,  my  friends 
needn't  worry." 

"  My  dear  child,  you  know  I  don't  mean  to 
be  meddlesome.  I  might  have  recollected  the 
old  adage  about  a  husband  and  wife  being  a 
pair  of  scissors,  and  whatever  comes  between 
the  blades  gets  cut.  But  there  is  a  principle 
involved  here." 

"  Yes,"  assented  Linda,  "  there  is  a  principle 
involved." 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  your  principles  and 
mine  are  not  the  same,"  said  the  elder  woman, 
with  a  little  heat. 

"  Oh,  yours  are  all  right  for  you.  But  I  must 
conform  myself  to  a  different  rule.  I  can't  ex 
plain  it  all,  dear,  only,  right  or  wrong,  I  shall 
continue  to  give  in — as  you  term  it — to  Robert. 
If  he  is  high-tempered,  there's  all  the  more 


449805 


38  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

reason  why  I  shouldn't  be.  I  know  what  he 
expects  of  me — what  he  has  always  expected 
of  me " 

"  Expects  you  to  be  an  angel !  "  broke  in  her 
friend,  "  while  he  is — whatever  he  chooses." 

"  Well,"  answered  Linda,  with  a  brilliant 
smile,  "  I'll  be  as  near  an  angel  as  I  can.  You 
don't  understand.  There  are  compensations. 
Even  if  there  is  a  little  bitter  drop  now  and 
then,  he  makes  me  very  happy.  And  happi 
ness  is  worth  an  effort." 

"Well,  well,"  sighed  her  friend,  and  they 
both  fell  into  silence. 

At  the  porch  they  parted  with  a  warmer 
kiss  than  usual.  Linda  could  not  help  feeling 
that  she  had  cast  herself  adrift  to  swim  alone 
henceforth  in  waters  that  might  be  cold  and 
sullen.  She  went  into  the  house  and  took  off 
her  hat  half  reluctantly.  The  next  few  hours 
dragged  on  in  unbroken  dulness.  About  four 
o'clock  the  bay  horses  dashed  up  and  Mr.  Meeks 
alighted  from  his  buggy,  followed  by  a  fine- 
looking,  gray-haired  man  who  was  in  the  midst 


WHEN  LOVE  ENS  LA  VES.  39 

of  remarks  evidently  admiring  and  compli 
mentary  in  their  nature. 

Mrs.  Meeks  stood  upon  the  veranda,  her  eyes 
a  trifle  brighter  than  usual,  her  cheeks  a  trifle 
warmer ;  her  head  was  held  unconsciously  a 
little  high,  but  otherwise  there  was  no  criticism 
to  be  made  upon  the  gracious  sweetness  with 
which  she  greeted  her  husband  and  his  guest. 

"  I  was  in  a  measure  prepared  to  meet  you," 
said  the  sauve  Briton.  "  Meeks  has  been  treat 
ing  me  to  certain  rhapsodies  of  description  with 
which  I  now  perfectly  sympathize." 

"  In  Virginia  we  say  that  an  acquaintance 
begun  with  a  compliment  ends  in  a  duel,"  said 
Linda,  smiling. 

When  the  guest  had  been  ushered  up-stairs 
to  wash  off  the  dust  of  travel,  Mr.  Meeks  put 
his  arm  about  his  wife's  waist.  His  eyes  were 
unshadowed  by  any  disagreeable  recollections. 

"  Sweetheart !  "  he  said. 

"  He  will  never  make  any  apologies,"  thought 
Linda.  "  Well,  no  matter.  I  am  glad  I  came 
back." 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO. 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.1 


I. 

"  MANDY'S  jest  crazy  to  go  to  New  York," 
said  Mrs.  Powell  to  her  friend  Mrs.  Thomas, 
who  was  spending  the  day  with  her. 

The  two  elderly  women  were  "  kin  "  in  that 
wide-reaching  term  that  in  Virginia  stretches 
out  over  blood  relationship  to  the  remotest 
degree  of  fortieth  cousinship.  Mr.  Thomas' 
mother  had  been  a  Powell,  and  it  was  from  the 
Powells,  she  was  accustomed  to  say  with  ill- 
concealed  pride,  that  her  son  Vivian  got  his 
high  spirit  and  his  splendid  eyes. 

Amanda  Powell  had  the  identical  dark  brown 
eyes  and  apparently  the  same  high  spirit. 
When  she  was  six  and  Vivian  twelve,  the  two 
had  been  used  to  retire  from  family  parties 

1  Copyright,  1897  and  1898,  by  S.  H.  Moore  &  Co 

43 


44  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

anywhere  from  one  to  a  dozen  times  in  the 
course  of  an  afternoon  to  have  it  out,  in  the 
back  hallway,  or  in  the  garret,  or  even,  when 
the  excitement  was  intense,  in  the  "  far  barn," 
a  dilapidated  building  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away 
from  the  house. 

Vivian,  even  at  the  manly  age  of  twelve,  and 
in  the  face  of  all  the  traditions  of  chivalry, 
which  to  a  Southern  boy  of  that  period  exer 
cised  a  very  real  influence  over  his  attitude  to 
ward  the  softer  sex,  despite  the  vigilance  of 
his  mother  and  aunts,  who  were  perpetually 
admonishing  him  to  recollect  that  "  Mandy 
was  little  and  a  girl  besides,"  Vivian  was  tor 
mented  by  a  desire  to  subdue  his  spunky, 
small  cousin  at  any  cost  of  time  and  ingenuity. 
He  had  once  made  a  great  flourish  with  a  hazel 
switch  and  raised  a  welt  on  her  slim  bare  arm, 
which  gave  him  immense  satisfaction  at  the 
moment,  and  haunted  him  remorsefully  for 
weeks  afterwards.  Amanda  had  promptly 
pulled  out  a  lock  of  his  hair,  and  then,  setting 
her  back  against  the  side  of  the  barn  and  grit- 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  45 

ting  her  tiny  white  teeth,  had  bidden  him 
"  come  on  "  in  a  tone  ringing  with  belligerent 
probabilities. 

After  that  day  a  new  element  was  added  to 
the  attraction  the  two  children  had  for  each 
other.  Their  attitude  was  much  like  that  of 
two  unfledged  chickens  who  have  had  a  fight 
ending  in  a  drawn  battle,  and  have  a  thirst 
for  satisfaction.  Whoever  has  watched  a 
pair  of  very  young  roosters  in  the  act  of 
combat,  knows  how  each  one  makes  a  peck 
and  then  draws  off  and  stands  upon  the  de 
fensive,  vigilant  and  defiant ;  another  peck — 
then  another  rest,  neither  one  giving  in 
or  running  away  until  some  intruder  parts 
them. 

Vivian  and  Amanda  had  continued  upon 
these  terms  until  increasing  years  rendered 
actual  fighting  , impossible,  and  left  to  their 
antagonistic  spirits  only  the  resource  of  sting 
ing  words,  and  to  hours  of  repentance  the  mere 
interchange  of  shy  glances  and  softer  K,speech, 
added  to  a  fierce  absorption  of  one  another's 


46  SOUTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

society,  which  left  the  rest  of  the  world  com 
pletely  outside. 

The  Powell  and  Thomas  tribe  had  come  in 
the  course  of  time  to  accept  the  alliance  be 
tween  the  fighting  cousins  as  one  of  the  mys 
terious  results  of  the  strange  similarity  of  the 
two  children  in  looks  and  disposition,  and  all 
the  other  young  cousins  had  learned  that  these 
two  black-eyed  friend-enemies  belonged  to  one 
another,  and  tolerated  no  interference  in  their 
relation. 

Both  were  fatherless,  and  so,  in  either  case, 
the  young  spirit  that  needed  wise  and  loving 
restraint,  had  broken  through  the  feeble  curb 
of  motherly  fondness  and  gained  freedom  be 
fore  achieving  the  self-control  that  prevents 
liberty  from  degenerating  into  license. 

Amanda  was  now  eighteen,  and  Vivian — just 
home  from  a  two-years'  term  at  the  College  of 
Virginia — was  twenty-four.  The  two  mothers, 
sitting  together  that  afternoon,  a  week  after 
Vivian's  premature  return  from  college,  were 
anxiously  alive  to  all  the  possibilities  smoulder 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  47 

ing  in  such  a  period  and  fanned  by  recent 
separation  and  the  excitement  of  inquiry  into 
the  changes  a  couple  of  years  had  wrought. 

I  should  like  to  dwell  for  a  moment  upon 
the  scene  of  this  little  motherly  conference. 
It  was  the  "  settin'-room  "  of  a  large,  old-fash 
ioned  mansion  in  central  Virginia,  and  was  one 
of  two  ample  square  rooms  lying  on  either  side 
of  a  great  hall  that  ran  straight  through  the 
middle  of  the  house  and  lost  itself  in  a  broad 
porch  in  the  rear. 

Its  newly  white-washed  walls  were  half 
covered  with  dusky  old  family  portraits  in 
terspersed  with  bits  of  what  Amanda  called 
"  bric-a-brac,"  meaning  wood-cuts  from  the 
illustrated  weeklies,  brilliantly  colored  fans, 
and  bunches  of  ferns  and  grasses  tied  together 
with  ends  of  sash  ribbon.  The  worn  carpet 
covering  the  middle  of  the  floor  was  an  ancient 
and  costly  Axminster,  and  the  few  pieces  of 
furniture  were  of  massive  mahogany,  the  long 
sofa  and  two  armchairs  covered  with  black 
haircloth,  but  overlaid  with  so  many  knitted 


48  SO  UTIIERN  HE  A  R  TS 

tidies  and  scarfs  that  their  dreariness  was  well 
concealed.  In  the  deep,  wide  fireplace  a  big 
log  burned  slowly  this  chilly  April  day,  and  on 
either  side  of  a  spider-legged  table  drawn  up 
before  the  blaze,  sat  and  rocked  the  elderly 
ladies,  dividing  their  attention  between  a 
small  decanter  of  Madeira  and  a  plate  of  Aunt 
'Liza's  delicious  plum  cake,  and  the  subject  of 
Amanda's  craze  to  go  to  New  York. 

"  Mandy's  always  had  her  own  way  about 
everything  up  to  this,"  said  Mrs.  Thomas,  her 
cool,  pale  blue  eyes  turning  their  wavering 
glance  upon  the  plump,  handsome  face  of  her 
hostess,  whose  blooming  cheeks  were  framed 
in  snowy  curls  and  set  off  by  a  lace  fichu  that 
came  up  high  around  the  neck  of  her  gray 
merino  dress  and  was  fastened  in  front  by  a 
pin  made  of  her  husband's  hair  woven  into 
the  form  of  a  bunch  of  grapes.  The  term 
"  motherly  "  described  her  accurately ;  her 
cheery  smite,  her  ponderous  but  quick  mo 
tions,  her  rich-toned  voice  and  large,  soft  hands, 
all  made  up  a  personnel  that  drew  hearts  to  her 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  49 

in  affectionate  confidence.  She  laughed  in 
responding  to  her  cousin's  remark,  a  mellow, 
rippling  laugh,  such  as  you  might  have  ex 
pected  from  her. 

"  I  dunno  what  Vd  happen  if  anybody  wuz 
to  set  'emselves  up  against  Mandy,"  she  said, 
shaking  her  beautiful  white  curls.  "And  I 
dunno's  her  way  is  sech  a  bad  way.  She  don't 
like  to  have  anybody  say  what  she  shall  do  and 
what  she  sha'n't,  but  give  her  her  head  and  she's 
generous  as  the  day,  and  good-hearted.  The 
Powell  disposition  always  wuz  to  be  a  leetle 
wilful,  but  the  Major  and  I  always  got  along 
well,  and  Mandy's  like  her  pa.  She  was  al 
ways  wild  to  travel,  and  she's  not  had  a  great 
opportunity  to  see  the  world.  If  I  could  leave 
home — or  had  anybody  to  take  her  !  But  I 
reckon  it'll  have  to  be  managed  some  way. 
Mandy's  bound  to  go." 

"  There's  one  person  'u'd  be  glad  enough  to 
take  her,"  said  Mrs.  Thomas.  "  He'd  take  her 
anywhere  she  wanted  to  go,  shore." 

"  You  mean  Edgar  Chamblin  ?  " 
4 


50  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

"  You  know  I  mean  Vivian,  so  what's  the 
use  o'  talkin'  'bout  anybody  else  ?  I  seen  cl'ar 
'nuff,  Nellie,  five  year  ago,  how  things  wuz 
goin'  to  be  when  them  two  growed  up.  It's 
nater,  and  I  dunno's  we  kin  help  it,  even  sup- 
posin'  we  wuz  to  desire  to." 

A  troubled  look  passed  over  Mrs.  Powell's 
face  ;  passed  and  left  no  trace,  as  a  cloud  passes 
over  the  sun.  "  Whatever  is,  is  best,"  she  had 
been  saying  all  her  life,  when  persons  about 
her  were  complaining  of  fate  and  Providence 
and  ill-luck.  But  beneath  her  optimism  was  a 
basis  of  sound  judgment,  and  she  always  quietly 
made  herself  sure  that  nothing  better  was 
attainable  before  acquiescing  in  such  arrange 
ments  as  Providence  allotted. 

"  Edgar  Chamblin  is  jest  sech  a  young  man 
as  I'd  like  to  see  Mandy  marry,"  she  observed 
placidly.  "  I've  nothin'  ag'in  Vivian — you 
know  I've  always  been  as  fond  of  him  as  if  he 
wuz  my  own — but  put  fire  and  tow  together ! 
Now,  Edgar's  one  of  the  kind  that'd  let  Mandy 
do  jest  what  she  pleased.  He's  easy-goin'. 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  51 

Not  but  what  he's  sensible  too,  and  steady. 
I'd  be  proud  to  hev  Mandy  so  well  suited  in  a 
husband  as  Ed'd  suit  her." 

"  I  should  think  you'd  know  better'n  to  pick 
out  who  Mandy 's  goin'  to  marry,"  said  Vivian's 
mother.  "  And  I  ain't  so  shore  as  it's  the  best 
thing  fur  a  woman  to  have  a  husband  give  in 
to  her  every  whip-stitch.  Probably  you  dunno 
what  it  is  to  have  a  shiftless,  no-account,  no- 
back-bone  sort  o'  creetur  'round  under  foot — 

"  Lord  knows,  all  I  want's  my  child's  hap 
piness,"  sighed  good  Mrs  Powell.  "  If  she  and 
Vivian  air  fond  o'  one  another,  I'm  not  the  one 
to  oppose  'em.  But  I  can't  say  now  as  I  want 
it  so.  It  stands  to  reason  two  black-eyed,  high- 
strung  people,  both  proud  as  Lucifer,  must  ex 
pect  to  have  a  stormy  life  together.  Why, 
it'd  make  me  tremble — the  idee  of  'em  goin' 
away  on  a  weddin'  tour  !  " 

"  Vivian's  a  good  boy,  Nellie,"  answered  his 
mother  in  a  tone  that  trembled  a  little.  "  You 
know,  yourself,  he's  a  gentleman.  No  woman 
need  be  afeard  of  a  man  if  he's  a  gentleman." 


5  2  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

"  My  dear,  the  Major  wuz  a  gentleman  ;  no 
man  more  so.  But  I  dunno  what'd  happened 
if  I  hadn't  known  how  to  manage  him.  You've 
either  got  to  manage  a  man  or  be  managed, 
and  though  there  air  women  that  need  man- 
agin',  and  some  that  like  it,  I've  never  seen  the 
man  yet  that's  fit  to  be  the  head  o'  woman. 
I  ain't  sayin'  they  don't  exist.  I  haven't  been 
about  much.  But  my  mother  had.  She'd 
been  everywhere.  Her  father  was  Commander 
in  the  Navy,  as  you  know,  and  she  said  to  me 
once :  '  Nellie,  I  never  yet  see  the  man  .that 
was  good  enough  for  a  good  woman.'  I  don't 
go  as  fur  as  that.  Ma  was  ruther  high  in  her 
notions.  But  on  the  other  hand  it'd  go  mighty 
hard  with  me  to  have  to  stand  by  and  see  a 
man  that  married  Mandy  with  his  hand  on  top." 

"  Seems  to  me  you  needn't  be  afeard  o'  that 
if  she  has  Vivian.  It's  been  all  along  with 
them  two  that  if  one  wuz  ahead  one  day, 
t'other  was  shore  to  git  ahead  the  next.  You 
recollect  the  old  saying :  '  Pull  Dick,  pull 
deevil,'  I  reckon,  Nellie?" 


THE   WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  53 

"That's  the  worst  on  it.  I'm  mortal  afeard 
they'd  kill  one  another.  They  ain't  noways 
suited,  Jane,  and  I  trust  to  mercy  that  the 
thing's  not  to  be." 

Mrs.  Powell  pronounced  her  ultimatum  with 
unusual  energy,  and  rising,  began  to  stir  about 
the  room,  setting  cushions  and  folding  up 
pieces  of  sewing  in  a  manner  that  evinced  a 
wish  to  to  shake  off  a  disagreeable  impression. 
Never  before  had  she  felt  a  wish  to  fight  the 
inevitable.  She  was  not  one  of  the  thin- 
skinned,  superstitious  beings  who  claim  to  be 
intuitional,  and  she  was  content,  ordinarily,  to 
recognize  events  when  they  actually  took  place, 
and  not  spy  them  out  beforehand  in  the  clouds 
of  fancy.  But  mothers  seem  to  have  a  special 
.cense  that  warns  of  coming  danger,  and  this 
good  mother  had  felt  within  the  last  few 
minutes  a  strange  sinking  at  the  heart  in  con 
nection  with  thoughts  of  Mandy  which  made 
her  very  anxious  and,  as  she  put  it,  "  fidgety,"  so 
that  to  sit  still  longer  and  discuss  the  matter 
of  this  undesired  marriage  was  an  impossibility. 


54  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

"  I  sort  o'  hoped  you  wouldn't  be  averse  to 
the  children's  comin'  together,  Nellie,"  were 
Mrs.  Thomas's  parting  words  as  she  settled 
herself  in  the  broad  carryall  while  the  sun  was 
still  high,  to  drive  the  two  miles  to  Bloomdale, 
where,  standing  back  a  little  way  from  Main 
Street,  was  the  modern  brick  house  that  her 
father,  the  general  storekeeper  "in  town,"  had 
left  her  and  to  her  eldest  son  George  after  her, 
the  entail  taking  no  account  of  Vivian,  to  whom 
she  promptly  gave  up  his  father's  farm  the  day 
he  came  of  age. 

As  she  took  up  the  reins  after  this  plaintive 
remark  and  turned  her  eyes  reproachfully  upon 
Mrs.  Powell's  countenance,  beaming  upon  the 
parting  guest  from  the  broad  doorway,  another 
vehicle  whirled  around  the  curve  and  stopped, 
and  two  beautiful  pairs  of  dark  eyes  smiled 
upon  her,  as  Vivian  himself  sprang  out  and  put 
his  arm  about  Amanda  with  a  zeal  that  was 
totally  unnecessary  to  the  furthering  of  that 
active  damsel's  descent  to  the  ground. 

"  Where  have  you  two  been  all  this  blessed 


THE   WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  55 

afternoon,  when  I  needed  Mandy  to  hem  them 
table-cloths?  "  said  Mrs.  Powell,  her  beaming 
countenance  contradicting  her  complaint,  as 
Amanda  put  both  arms  about  her  neck  and 
kissed  her  with  an  affection  that  was  as  genuine 
as  it  was  spontaneous. 

"  Been  to  Bear's  Den,"  said  Amanda,  a  rich 
color  mantling  her  opal-tinted  cheeks,  and  a 
shy,  saucy  smile  curving  a  mouth  formed  for 
the  torment  of  men,  in  more  senses  than  one. 
Her  voice  was  a  modified  edition  of  her 
mother's,  lazy,  rich  and  sweet,  but  with  keener 
timber.  Under  provocation  it  might  become 
scornful,  which  Mrs.  Powell's  could  not.  She 
was  tall  and  symmetrically  built,  her  figure  al 
ready  showing  the  luxurious  development  that 
to  girls  of  northern  race  comes  only  with  an  un 
comfortable  embonpoint.  But  there  was  not 
a  trace  of  clumsiness  in  her  make-up,  which 
united  energy  and  languor  in  singularly  equal 
proportions. 

A  fair  picture  the  little  group  made,  when 
Vivian  had  placed  himself  beside  his  young 


56  SOUTHERN  HEAR TS 

kinswoman  and  stood,  leaning  against  the  pil 
lar,  his  soft  hat  dangling  from  one  hand,  while 
the  other  surreptitiously  held  Amanda's  under 
cover  of  her  shawl.  He  was  her  match  in 
beauty  and  very  like  her,  but  with  lighter 
coloring,  his  mother's  blonde  tints  reappearing 
in  his  ruddy  skin  and  bronze-brown  mustache. 
With  equal  fire  of  glance,  there  was  yet  some 
thing  that  was  not  present  in  her  spirited  coun 
tenance  ;  a  hint  of  petulance  and  selfishness. 
But  it  was  counter-balanced  by  a  wonderful 
tenderness  of  expression  that  now  spread  over 
his  clear-cut  features  like  a  wave  of  moonlight, 
bringing  out  the  rare  charm  that  made  Vivian 
at  times  irresistible. 

His  mother,  watching  him  with  all  her  heart 
in  her  eyes,  caught  her  breath  and  dropped 
the  reins  on  her  lap  as  she  met  the  significant 
look  he  turned  toward  her  for  a  second,  before 
bending  his  gaze,  filled  with  its  utmost  per 
suasive  power,  upon  Mrs.  Powell. 

"  I  reckon,"  he  said  slowly,  his  tones  cut 
ting  the  air  decisively,  yet  quivering  with  a 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  57 

certain  plaintiveness  that  recalled  "  Cousin 
Jane's "  tremulous  minor  notes,  "  this  is  as 
good  a  time  as  any  to  tell  you  both  that 
Amanda  and  I  have  made  up  our  minds  to  try 
housekeeping  together  at  Benvenew." 

"  After  we  come  back  from  New  York,"  put 
in  Amanda  with  a  saucy  glance  of  reminder. 

"  Children,"  said  Mrs.  Powell,  more  solemnly 
than  she  had  ever  spoken  in  her  life.  She  took 
a  hand  of  each  and  looked  from  one  to  the 
other,  while  Jane  Thomas  scarcely  breathed  as 
she  leaned  out  of  the  carryall  toward  them. 
"  Children,  if  ye've  both  made  up  your  minds, 
I've  got  no  call  to  interfere  with  young  folks' 
happiness,  and  I  sha'n't.  What  I  say  now,  I 
say  once  and  for  all,  and  I  sha'n't  harp  on  it. 
But  I  know  both  on  ye  pretty  nigh  as  well  as 
I  know  myself.  I'm  afeard  my  girl  needs 
somethin'  you  can't  give  her,  Vivian.  You 
think  you  don't,  honey,"  she  added,  squeezing 
the  soft  palm  laid  in  her  own,  and  longing  for 
eloquence  to  express  the  meaning  that  was  in 
her  heart  ;  "  but  you  ain't  a  woman  yet  ; 


58  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

you're  only  a  child.  And  what  you're  a-goin' 
to  turn  out  depends  more'n  you  can  think  now, 
on  the  kind  of  marriage  you  make.  I  pity  the 
man  that  sets  his  heart  on  makin*  you  ever  to 
suit  himself.  And  you,  my  dear  boy,  air  too 
rash — you  ain't  settled  enough.  And  it's  my 
duty  to  say,  fur  your  own  sake,  that  if  you  two 
try  gettin'  along  together,  you'll  be  ridin'  over 
to  your  mother  or  to  me  some  day  with  a 
mouthful  of  complaints  'gainst  Mandy.  And 
some  of  'em  '11  be  just.  There's  a  soft  streak 
in  Mandy  and  there's  a  hard  streak,  and  I'm 
afeard  you'll  find  the  hard  one." 

"  Why,  mother  !  "  said  Amanda,  astonished 
and  a  little  alarmed  at  her  jolly  mother's  grave 
discourse.  The  words  meant  nothing  to  her 
then.  She  turned  a  laughing  glance  upon  her 
lover,  who  had  listened  with  equal  lack  of 
comprehension.  Now  they  with  one  accord 
drew  closer  together.  Certainly,  any  advice 
which  does  not  harmonize  with  the  wishes  of 
those  matrimonially  inclined  is  as  the  voice  of 
one  crying  in  the  wilderness. 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  59 

"  We  always  meant  to  be  married,  Aunt 
Nellie,"  answered  Vivian  after  a  short  pause. 
"  No  other  girl  would  suit  me,  and  she  is 
satisfied  with  me.  Arnt  you,  Mandy?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Amanda  without  hesitation. 

"  Nellie,"  cried  Mrs.  Thomas,  unable  to  con 
tain  herself  any  longer,  "  don't  you  make  'em 
feel  you  don't  believe  they'll  be  happy  to 
gether.  They  ain't  children  now,  and  because 
they've  always  been  sparrin'  is  all  the  more 
reason  they'll  settle  down  tame  enough." 

"  I  should  just  hate  a  man  I  couldn't  have  a 
good  quarrel  with,  once  in  a  while,"  the  girl 
made  a  pretense  of  whispering  to  her  mother, 
and  giving  Vivian  a  look  which  meant  that  he 
was  to  understand  they  were  to  have  things  as 
they  wanted  them. 

"  I've  got  no  call  to  say  any  more,"  said 
Mrs.  Powell,  to  whom  this  slight  opposition 
had  been  an  extraordinary  effort.  She  felt 
that  conscience  could  demand  no  more  of  her. 
So  she  kissed  Amanda  and  then  kissed  Vivian, 
and  Jane  Thomas  kissed  them  both  and  cried 


60  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

over  them,  as  sentimental  women  cry  when 
they  get  their  heart's  desire,  and  they  all  stood 
on  the  porch  together  for  a  few  minutes,  talk 
ing  eagerly,  perhaps  to  cover  a  little  feeling 
that  had  been  stirred  up  by  the  discussion  ;  a 
foreboding  that  could  not  quite  be  laid  to  rest, 
whether,  after  all,  this  marriage  was  a  wise  one, 
a  prudent  one,  and  one  from  which  good  was 
to  come. 

Did  Amanda  feel  this  doubt  ?  Perhaps  the 
odd  little  shiver  that  came  over  her  and  that 
she  shook  off  so  lightly  was  a  premonition  she 
would  have  done  well  to  heed,  instead  of  turn 
ing,  as  she  did,  to  lay  her  beautiful  head  on 
her  lover's  shoulder  in  a  manner  that  was 
rather  too  deliberate  to  be  altogether  fond. 

Did  Vivian  experience  any  fear  of  the  future 
in  this  instant  of  promised  fulfilment  of  his 
hopes  ?  Not  he.  The  time  was  as  yet  far 
distant  when  that  buoyant  glance  which  seemed 
to  challenge  fate  was  to  be  turned  downward 
in  melancholy  resignation,  and  the  impetuous 
outleaping  of  suggestion  and  comment  that 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  6 1 

was  natural  to  his  enthusiastic  temperament 
become  hesitating  appeal  to  one  he  feared  to 
displease. 

And  the  two  mothers,  watching  this  adored 
son  and  daughter  and  rejoicing  in  their  joy, 
sympathizing  and  admiring  with  that  admira 
tion  which  is  most  perfectly  free  from  envy, 
did  their  knowledge  of  human  nature  and 
their  past  experience  not  suggest  that  which 
must  make  them  tremble  in  regarding  these 
two  heedless  young  creatures,  both  children 
of  one  haughty  race,  bent  upon  gratifying 
that  impulse  of  mutual  attraction  which  was 
more  than  likely  to  have  its  source  in  animal 
obstinacy  than  in  reasonable,  human  affec 
tion  ? 

But  how  limited  is  the  outlook  of  elderly 
women  in  these  little  southern  villages,  where 
the  history  of  a  few  lives  constitutes  their  en 
tire  equipment  in  sociology,  and  to  whom  the 
idea  of  essential  differences  between  sets  of 
conditions  superficially  alike,  can  never  present 
itself  strongly.  Mrs.  Powell's  motherly  instinct 


62  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

had  had  its  spasm  of  alarm,  but  had  been 
quieted  by  the  soothing  reflection  that  mar- 
riage  tames  high  spirits,  and  that  the  Rubicon 
of  matrimony  once  passed,  adjustment  to  cir 
cumstances  must  follow.  Nothing  else  was 
conceivable.  As  for  Jane  Thomas,  any  pic 
ture  of  a  future  into  which  trouble  might  come 
to  her  son  even  from  the  "  curse  of  a  granted 
prayer  "  was  beyond  her  imagination.  All  she 
had  asked  in  life  since  Vivian  was  born  was 
that  he  might  have  whatever  was  necessary  to 
make  him  happy,  and  that  spirited  youth  had 
succeeded  in  convincing  her  that  happiness 
lay  in  having  what  he  wanted.  He  wanted 
Amanda,  and  now  he  had  got  her.  Mrs. 
Thomas  rejoiced  as  far  as  her  melancholy  tem 
perament  permitted,  and  trusted  the  future  to 
Providence.  And  in  a  month  Amanda  Powell 
had  become  "  young  Mrs.  Thomas."  A  month 
is  a  short  engagement  in  Virginia,  but  Vivian 
was  impatient  to  open  up  his  closed  homestead, 
and  start  the  farm  going  according  to  some  new 
theories  of  farming,  which  chiefly  took  shape 


THE   WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  63 

in  patent  fertilizer  and  an  improved  kind  ol 
harrow  ;  also,  the  introduction  of  white  laboi 
to  supersede  the  "  lazy  darkies." 

And  to  Amanda  marriage  meant  the  pretty 
pearl  ring  her  lover  had  placed  upon  her  fin 
ger,  the  rustling  white  silk  gown  her  mother 
had  made  for  her  in  Ryburg,  and — the  wed 
ding  journey.  Our  wildest  dreams  are  only 
re-combinations  of  what  we  have  experienced 
or  read  of,  and  how  could  this  girl  of  eighteen, 
for  all  her  rich  and  varied  nature,  dream  of 
the  coming  of  responsibilities  that  would 
shake  her  frail  fancies  of  married  life  like  an 
earthquake,  or  of  mental  development  that  * 
would  awaken  critical  faculties  to  the  extent 
of  making  her  rebel  against  what  she  now 
accepted  as  matters  of  course  ;  nothing  better 
having  presented  itself  to  her  mind  ? 

She  was  satisfied  that  the  wedding  was  con 
ventionally  correct,  according  to  Fauquier 
County  standards  ;  that  the  day  was  bright ; 
that  she  looked  her  best,  and  that  Vivian  was 
devoted  without  being  uncomfortably  demon- 


64  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

strative.  For  without  at  all  understanding  why 
it  was  so,  the  young  girl,  so  full  of  ardor  in  all 
her  attachments,  had  a  virginal  coldness  toward 
her  young  lover  that  made  her  shrink  with  dis 
taste  from  caresses  and  put  aside  any  suggestion 
of  an  intimacy  other  than  had  always  existed 
between  them,  and  of  which  she  foresaw  merely 
an  extension,  not  a  transformation  into  any 
thing  more  exacting. 

Reared  by  an  old-fashioned  southern  mother, 
watched  and  shielded  as  maidens  once  were 
when  maternal  ideas  of  duty  included  an  anx 
ious  supervision  over  a  daughter's  reading, 
amusements,  and  associations,  Amanda  was  in 
all  essentials  still  a  child,  with  only  her  nat 
ural  dignity  and  womanly  instinct  to  protect 
her  amid  the  various  perplexities  and  tempta 
tions  the  future  might  hold  for  her. 

New  York  burst  upon  her  eager  senses  as  the 
first  deafening  crash  of  a  full  orchestra  might 
salute  the  ears  of  a  music-mad  boy  who  had 
never  heard  anything  more  stimulating  than 
the  wheezy  strains  of  a  second-rate  melodeon. 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  65 

Stunned  but  delighted,  she  gazed  from  the  car 
riage  windows  upon  the  crowds,  the  stores,  and 
the  elevated  railway,  and  thought  that  now  she 
was  seeing  the  world. 

Vivian  went  to  the  Windsor,  and  as  the 
youthful  pair  descended  to  the  dining-room 
about  seven  o'clock  and  told  a  servant  at  the 
door  that  they  wanted  "  supper,"  the  lofty  head 
waiter  in  condescending  admiration,  swooped 
down  and  led  them  to  the  extreme  rear  of  the 
room,  where,  ranged  in  close  proximity,  were 
four  other  bridal  couples  as  newly  made  as 
themselves. 

But  Amanda  had  come  down  in  a  white  lawn 
gown  profusely  trimmed  with  pink  satin  ribbon, 
and  heavy  gold  bracelets  on  her  arms,  bare  to 
the  elbow.  The  other  brides  wore  walking 
suits  and  bonnets,  with  the  exception  of  one, 
whose  gown  was  of  rich  brocade,  and  whose 
supercilious  face  was  set  off  by  the  most  unap 
proachable  coiffure  Amanda  had  ever  seen. 

She  had  quick  perceptions,  and  was  keenly 
alive  to  any  defect  in  her  own  appearance,  and 
5 


66  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

in  ten  minutes  she  suffered  all  the  agony  that 
would  be  felt  by  a  finished  woman  of  the  world 
who  had  inadvertently  worn  full  dress  to  a 
reception  demanding  bonnets.  Yet,  to  the 
first  test  her  metal  rang  true.  With  heightened 
color  she  went  through  the  form  of  dining, 
and  Vivian,  whose  sensibilities  were  as  keen 
as  hers  and  wnose  s<flf-love  was  greater,  took 
note  of  certain  differences  between  his  young 
wife  and  the  other  women,  and  felt  himself 
aggrieved  by  her  lack  of  taste.  It  was  too 
soon,  and  he  was  too  tender  toward  her  for  him 
to  betray  intentionally  this  slight  annoyance. 
But  an  admitted  cause  of  irritation  is  like  the 
first  rip  in  one's  apparel ;  every  movement  that 
touches  the  rent  extends  it  until  the  garment 
falls  into  rags. 

Vivian  had  permitted  himself  the  latitude  of 
secret  fault-finding,  and  from  this  to  the  next 
step  it  was  easy. 

Their  first  quarrel  came  within  a  week.  The 
wonder  is  not  that  it  came  so  soon,  but  that  it 
was  deferred  so  long.  Yet,  the  immediate  cause 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  67 

was  absurdly  trivial.  They  had  arranged  to 
drive  to  Clairmont  and  lunch  in  company  with 
some  friends  of  Vivian.  But  when  the  morn 
ing  came  he  felt  averse  to  carrying  out  the 
program.  Perhaps  his  head  ached,  or  he  had 
slept  ill,  or  the  discovery  that  his  trunk  key  was 
missing  annoyed  him  unduly.  But  anyway  he 
was  out  of  tone. 

One  o'clock  found  him  stretched  out  on 
the  couch  in  their  room  yawning  discontentedly 
over  the  Herald.  Amanda,  flitting  about,  sud 
denly  became  aware  when  her  toilet  was  half 
made  that  he  had  not  begun  to  get  ready. 

"If  you  don't  hurry  up  I'll  go  off  and  leave 
you — lazy  fellow !  "  she  cried.  "  They  talk  about 
women  being  always  the  ones  to  keep  people 
waiting.  I'm  sure  it's  the  other  way.  I'm  al 
ways  ready  for  everything  before  you." 

"  I'm  not  going,"  said  Vivian  abruptly,  direct 
ing  a  scowl  toward  the  wall  paper. 

They  had  now  been  married  eight  days.  A 
certain  French  author,  renowned  for  his  biting 
epigrams,  remarks :  "  I  do  not  believe  there 


68  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

ever  was  a  marriage  in  the  world,  even  the 
union  of  a  tiger  and  a  panther,  which  would 
not  pretend  to  perfect  happiness  for  at  least 
fifteen  days  after  the  marriage  ceremony." 

In  this  case  was  neither  tiger  nor  panther ; 
only  a  young  man  who  had  always  lorded  it 
prettily  over  the  women  in  his  family,  and  a 
girl  who  had  been  brought  up  to  expect  much 
deference.  Perhaps  in  France  it  might  have 
taken  fifteen  days  for  the  glamour  to  wear  off. 
But  in  America  emotions  exhaust  themselves 
rapidly.  Amanda,  standing  with  one  gloved 
hand  stretched  out  before  her,  seemingly  in 
tent  upon  fastening  the  buttons,  had  begun  to 
reflect. 

"You  ain't  well,"  she  observed  coldly. 
"  Probably  you  ate  too  much  pie  last  night." 

Now,  among  the  trifles  that  grate  upon  the 
masculine  mind,  is  having  an  indisposition 
referred  to  gastronomic  indulgence.  At  such 
times  a  man  is  apt  to  consider  that  a  wife  but 
poorly  replaces  a  mother. 

"  Amanda,  I  wish  you  would  learn  that  all 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  69 

varieties  of  pastry  don't  come  under  the  head 
of  '  pie.'  And  I  wish  you  wouldn't  say  '  ain't.' 
It's  deucedly  countrified," 

"  Oh,"  said  Amanda.  She  deliberately  took 
off  her  gloves  and  hat,  and  sat  down  upon  an 
ottoman  near  the  couch.  Her  color  had  arisen, 
and  her  black  eyes  had  an  ominous  sparkle. 
"Is  there  anything  else  you  wish  ?  "  She  asked 
this  aggressively.  Her  tone  suggested  that  she 
had  not  forgotten  that  episode  of  the  fight  in 
the  barn  that  lay  a  dozen  years  back.  She 
was  quite  as  ready  to  stand  upon  the  defen 
sive  now  as  she  had  been  then.  But  when 
women  stand  sentinel  their  guns  go  off  inad 
vertently. 

"  I  should  think  you'd  be  ashamed  of  your 
self,  Vivian  Thomas  !  "  then  said  Amanda.  She 
felt  that  he  ought  to  be  ashamed  ;  that  his  dis 
play  of  petulance  had  occurred  at  least  a  fort 
night  too  soon ;  that  aside  from  the  general 
fact  that  she  was  in  the  right,  as  usual,  he  had  put 
himself  in  the  exceptional  attitude  of  ill-treat 
ing  a  bride  and  trying  to  spoil  her  pleasure 


70  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

during  the  tour  avowedly  taken  to  give  her 
pleasure. 

"What  of?"  asked  Vivian,  shutting  his  eyes. 

"  Of  the  way  you're  acting,"  promptly  an 
swered  Amanda.  "  If  you  were  a  little  boy 
you'd  deserve  a  whipping.  As  you're  supposed 
to  be  a  man 

"  Only  supposed  to  be?"  sarcastically  put  in 
the  depreciated  young  gentleman. 

"  Well,  act  like  a  man,  then!  "  said  Amanda 
in  a  biting  tone. 

"You're  acting  like  a  shrew,"  he  returned, 
not  entirely  without  reason,  for  the  girl-wife 
had  worked  herself  up  to  quite  a  pretty  rage. 
Yet,  as  is  plain,  the  blame  was  his,  and  in  his 
heart  he  knew  it.  But  since  he  had  evoked  a 
display  of  temper  he  had  a  mind  to  bring  her  to 
the  stool  of  repentance.  As  well  now  as  later. 

Amanda,  upon  her  side  was  reminded  that 
Vivian's  mother  had  spoiled  him,  and  she  fan 
cied  that  the  time  had  come  for  her  to  estab 
lish  the  supremacy  over  him  that  was  essential 
to  the  happiness  of  both.  So  mixed  are  the 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  71 

motives  that  direct  any  one  of  our  actions  that 
it  is  possible  there  lay  side  by  side  with  this 
lofty  determination  of  the  spirited  young 
woman  a  wish  to  prove  her  husband  ;  to  find 
out  if  he  had  strength  of  character  sufficient  to 
hold  his  own  against  her  and  bring  her  to  the 
point  he  evidently  aimed  toward,  of  coaxing 
him  into  good  humor.  There  was  no  sugges 
tion  of  any  such  weakness  in  her  next  words. 

"  It's  no  use  to  talk  sense  to  you,"  she  re 
marked,  as  if  considering  ways  and  means. 
"  Because  you  haven't  got  common  sense.  Ma 
always  said  that." 

One  can  pardon  reproaches  provoked  by  the 
occasion,  but  a  deliberate  accusation  delivered 
at  second  hand  has  the  weight  of  society  be 
hind  it.  And  the  affront  was  the  greater  in 
this  instance,  in  that  Vivian  had  considered 
"Aunt  Nellie"  his  firm  friend.  Returned  a 
trifle  pale,  and  rising  to  his  feet  began  .walking 
slowly  up  and  down  the  floor.  After  a  few 
strides  he  paused  in  front  of  Amanda  and 
said  : 


12  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

"I  guess  your  mother  was  right — if  she 
meant  I  hadn't  good  sense  when  I  wanted  to 
marry  you.  I  don't  know  as  I've  ever  shown 
myself  much  of  a  fool,  otherwise." 

And  then — it  was  only  eight  days  since  the 
ceremony,  and  they  were  both  so  young — 
somehow  the  quarrel  died  out,  and  they 
patched  up  a  peace,  and  went  to  Clairmont 
after  all,  in  a  great  hurry,  and  with  spirits 
considerably  ruffled.  But  neither  of  them 
enjoyed  the  day. 

After  that  a  great  many  things  went  wrong. 
There  was  money  enough  to  pay  their  ex 
penses  for  a  month  or  so,  but  none  to  waste; 
and  they  wasted  it.  Accustomed  to  the  use 
of  carriages,  as  a  matter  of  course  neither  of 
them  thought  of  economizing  in  this  line,  until 
confronted  with  an  appalling  livery-bill.  They 
did  not  know  how  to  order  a  dinner  a  la  carte, 
until  they  learned  by  costly  experience,  and 
the  fees  they  bestowed  upon  the  servants, 
although  seemingly  a  trifle  at  the  time,  were 
matters  of  grave  moment  when  the  sum  total 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  73 

of  their  expenditures  for  the  month  came 
under  discussion. 

It  had  been  the  plan  to  remain  away  six 
weeks,  but  upon  the  thirtieth  day  Vivian  came 
up  to  his  wife,  who  was  talking  with  some 
other  ladies  upon  the  porch  of  the  Grand 
Union  Hotel — they  were  then  at  Saratoga — 
and  said  abruptly  : 

"  Dear,  can  I  speak  with  you  a  minute  ?  " 

Rather  alarmed,  Amanda  accompanied  him 
to  a  retired  spot,  and  put  herself  in  a  listening 
attitude.  It  was  an  awkward  minute  for  Viv 
ian.  He  was  the  soul  of  generosity,  and  noth 
ing  gratified  him  more  than  to  give  to  others 
pleasure,  when  it  cost  him  no  effort.  Yet  here 
he  was  in  a  deuce  of  a  hole,  and  under  the 
necessity  of  making  a  humiliating  explanation 
to  the  person  whom  of  all  others  he  found  it 
hard  to  confess  to. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  Amanda,  rather  impatiently, 
as  he  fidgeted  about  without  saying  anything. 

"  Well,  my — dearest,"  said  poor  Vivian,  with 
pathos,  turning  out  an  empty  pocket,  "  we  are 


74  .   SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

in  a  fix.  We've  spent  money  a  little  too  fast, 
and  have  only  this  left  !  "  And  he  held  up  to 
view  a  five-dollar  bill,  and  two  silver  quarters. 

Amanda  gave  a  gasp,  and  then  collected  her 
mental  forces.  She  had  a  fund  of  practical 
common  sense  in  her  nature,  and  now  when 
she  summoned  it  for  the  first  time  it  responded 
to  call.  The  first  impression  her  husband's 
confidence  made  upon  her  was  to  arouse  a 
slight  contempt,  not  attended  to  at  the  instant, 
but  unconsciously  stored  away  to  be  used  on 
other  occasions.  When  our  friends  gracefully 
ignore  our  blunders  and  follies  is  it  to  be  sup 
posed  that  they  have  really  been  blind  to  what 
they  gave  no  evidence  of  perceiving?  As  well 
hope  that  the  stone  we  flung  into  the  wayside 
stream  was  totally  lost  when  the  ripples  ceased, 
and  that  it  found  no  home  in  the  bed  beneath. 

"  I  have  some  money,"  said  Amanda,  hast 
ily.  "  Do  we  owe  for  hotel  bills  ?  " 

"  No,  I've  just  settled  up  everything.  It 
was  that  opened  my  eyes.  I  had  no  idea  I 
was  so  nearly  broke." 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  75 

"  Then  we  can  get  home — I  reckon — if  we 
start  right  off.  I  have  fifty  dollars  that  mother 
gave  me,  the  last  thing.  For  '  extras,'  she  said. 
Perhaps  she  meant  this." 

She  could  not  help  the  little  fling.  It  was 
too  hard  to  use  this  mone^y,  which  she  had  re 
served  for  a  special  purpose. 

Vivian  bit  his  lip  and  turned  his  back  for  a 
moment  ;  but  what  was  the  use  of  making  a 
fuss  now?  He  was  thankful  upon  the  whole 
to  get  out  of  a  bad  scrape.  It  wouldn't  be 
Amanda  if  she  didn't  say  something  unpleas 
ant. 

Ah,  Vivian,  has  it  come  to  this  already  ?  It 
seems  the  scars  of  certain  little  passages  at 
arms  have  not  faded  away. 

Upon  a  warm,  sunshiny  day  in  June  they 
came  home.  Benvenew  was  in  order,  owing 
to  the  efforts  of  the  two  mothers,  and  Mrs. 
Powell's  four-seated  wagon  was  waiting  at  the 
little  station,  and  her  genial  face  smiled  a  wel 
come  from  the  back  seat. 

"  Darling    mother  !  "     murmured    Amanda, 


7  6  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

yielding  to  the  clasp  of  her  mother's  arms,  and 
for  one  instant  feeling  as  if  the  past  month 
with  its  bewildering  experiences,  was  all  a  wild 
dream,  and  she  a  child  again,  careless,  irre 
sponsible,  and  light  hearted.  The  familiar 
sights,  of  which  she  had  been  weary  not  long 
ago,  were  charming ;  the  smiles  and  nods  from 
people  they  met  warmed  a  heart  that  had  been 
chilled  and  affrighted  many  times  since  she 
had  left  her  Virginia  home.  Here,  in  her  own 
clime,  she  was  a  princess,  with  friends  to  love 
her  and  listen  to  her  with  respect  and  sym 
pathy. 

They  forded  a  stream  and  came  to  the  old 
mill,  standing  half-buried  in  the  marsh.  Part 
of  the  roof  was  off  and  the  rank,  clambering 
vine  of  the  wild  grape  had  reached  up  and 
hung  over  the  sides  in  graceful  festoons. 
Their  appearance  started  up  a  number  of  yel 
low  butterflies  that  had  been  fluttering  over 
the  stream,  and  now  rose  in  the.  air  like  a 
shower  of  golden  sparks. 

"  How  beautiful  it  all  is,"  said  Amanda.     "  I 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  77 

am  glad  to  be  home  again.  But  where  is  Alex 
taking  us?" 

"  To  Benvenew,  of  course,"  Mrs.  Powell  an 
swered.  "  Why,  Mandy,  dear,  didn't  you  want 
to  go  right  there,  or  would  you  ruther  go 
home  fur  to-night  ?  We  thought  probably 
you'd  both  prefer — but  the  laws  knows  I'd 
be  glad  to  have  you  both  come  back  with 
me." 

"  Why,  ma,  I  forgot !  "  said  Amanda.  "  And 
so  I'm  to  begin  my  housekeeping  right  off.  I 
don't  know  enough  about  it  to  take  care  of  that 
big  place." 

"You'll  have  Ellen  Digby  to  cook,"  said 
Mrs.  Powell  anxiously,  "  and  little  Admonia." 

"  Admonia  !  "  exclaimed  Vivian,  looking 
around  in  some  indignation  from  the  front 
seat.  "  I  can't  have  that  harum-scarum  crea 
ture  on  the  place." 

"  You  know  Ellen  really  is  a  good  servant," 
Mrs.  Powell  explained,  apologetically.  "  And 
she  won't  come  without  the  child.  Admonia's 
twelve  now,  and  she's  really  not  so  bad.  She 


78  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

can  be  trained.  There  wasn't  anybody  eise  we 
could  lay  hands  on." 

"  Never  mind,  ma,  Admonia  '11  do  well 
enough,"  interposed  Amanda.  "  She's  a  funny 
little  thing,  and  I  rather  like  her." 

"  Ex — actly  !  "  Vivian  observed,  with  an  ac 
cent  lately  acquired.  "  I  imagine  Amanda 
training  anybody." 

We  all  have  our  secret  pet  vanities  which 
undiscriminating  persons,  seeing  only  our 
surface  beauties,  are  perpetually  wounding. 
Amanda's  vanity  was  a  wish  to  be  acknowl 
edged  sensible  and  practical.  Beautiful,  she 
knew  herself  to  be,  and  to  hear  of  that  was  an 
old  story  ;  but  her  executive  ability  was  not  yet 
proved,  and  she  was  very  sensitive  upon  this 
point.  And  herein  Vivian  blundered.  It  did 
not  occur  to  him  that  he  hurt  her  feelings  by 
depreciating  her  executive  powers.  He  had 
been  used  to  regarding  her  as  a  pretty  play 
thing,  something  to  be  petted  and  disciplined 
alternately.  That  she  had  an  ambition  to  be 
something  more  was  what  he  had  not  yet  dis. 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  79 

covered.  Perhaps  the  idea  was  one  that  he 
would  have  to  blindly  grope  his  way  toward  ; 
for  "  we  can  only  comprehend  that  of  which 
we  have  the  beginnings  in  ourselves,"  and  in 
the  handsome,  suave,  popular  young  Virginian 
the  germ  of  common  sense  and  good  judgment 
was  small ;  so  very  much  smaller  than  his  little 
world  believed  it  to  be. 

"  Mandy  is  a  leetle  apt  to  spoil  the  young 
niggers,"  said  her  peace-making  mother.  "  But 
then  she  wuz  always  so  powerful  fond  o'  chil 
dren." 

Amanda  patted  her  mother's  shoulder,  while 
a  far-away  look  came  into  her  eyes  as  she 
fixed  them  on  a  distant  hill,  where  the  newly 
plowed  earth  lay  darkly  red  against  the  ten 
der  sky-tints,  and  the  sun  swept  down  upon 
one  spot,  covered  with  young  wheat,  and 
spread  over  it  like  the  caressing  touch  of  a 
golden  hand. 

She  was  passionately  fond  of  children — this 
fiery,  tender-hearted  woman,  who  showed  so 
many  prickles  to  the  grown  people  who  ap- 


8o  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

preached  her  incautiously.  And  Vivian  was 
not.  So  much  the  more  diplomatic,  so  much 
the  more  polished,  so  full  of  gentleness  toward 
women  and  forbearance  toward  their  trouble 
some  little  ones — was  it  possible  that  it  was  he 
who  failed  in  patience  and  kindness,  and  the 
froward  Amanda  who  must  be  credited  with 
the  possession  of  both,  when  helpless  hands 
were  stretched  out  toward  her?  Fauquier 
County  would  have  shaken  its  head  over  such 
a  question.  Fauquier  County  said  that  Vivian 
Thomas  was  the  mildest  and  best  humored 
young  man  in  the  world  except  when  things 
happened  that  he  had  a  right  to  be  angry 
about ;  but  that  Amanda  Powell  was  rather 
too  spunky  and  high-strung  for  any  man  ex 
cept  a  saint  to  get  along  with  peaceably.  For 
her  mother's  sake — and  also,  a  little  in  spite 
of  its  preternaturally  wise  judgment — for  the 
sake  of  certain  winning  ways  of  her  own,  the 
county  people  liked  her ;  but  Vivian,  they 
adored. 

And  so,  overshadowed  by  this  disadvantage, 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHAKIO  Si 

of  which  she  was  not  quite  unconscious,  the 
young  wife  descended  from  the  wagon,  helped 
out  as  gracefully  and  tenderly  as  he  had  helped 
her  out  of  another  vehicle  the  day  we  first  saw 
her,  by  her  courteous  husband,  and  entered 
the  door  of  her  new  home. 

The  first  person  they  laid  eyes  upon  was 
the  shock-headed,  wild-eyed  little  creature 
called  Admonia,  who  dropped  a  flower-pot 
she  was  carrying  through  the  hall,  and  with 
out  stopping  to  pick  up  the  pieces,  raced  to 
the  kitchen,  shouting  : 

"  Mis'  Mandy  and  Mr.  Vivian  done  come 
home,  fur  shore  !  Whoopy  !  Ain't  I  glad  ! 
Now,  we'uns  gwine  ter  have  times !  " 

Admonia  was  a  prophet. 
6 


82  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 


II. 


"  ADMONIA  !  "  called  a  woman's  voice,  and  in 
a  twinkling  the  owner  followed  and  stopped  in 
the  last  one  of  the  long  row  of  outbuildings 
that  spread  beyond  the  dining-room  of  Ben- 
venew. 

It  was  a  mere  shed,  enclosed  on  three  sides 
and  open  at  the  end,  the  sky  showing  through 
holes  in  the  roof.  The  rough  boarding  that 
answered  for  a  floor  was  broken  in  many 
places,  and  dirt  and  confusion  reigned  every 
where.  Upon  a  stool  sat  a  shock-headed,  wild- 
eyed  darkey  girl  of  twenty  or  so,  plucking  the 
feathers  from  a  couple  of  fowls,  and  throwing 
them  upon  the  floor.  Her  heavy  under-lip  fell 
and  her  eyes  rolled  as  the  imperative  tones  of 
her  mistress  smote  upon  her  ear,  and  she  arose 
quickly,  a  cloud  of  feathers  falling  from  her 
unspeakably  dirty  dress,  and  stood  dangling  a 
half  plucked  fowl,  her  dark  brown  face  so  im- 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  83 

mersed  in  gloom  that  all  the  features  seemed 
to  have  run  together,  the  whites  of  her  eyes 
and  her  broad  yellow  teeth  giving  her  the 
appearance  of  a  bank  of  much  soiled  and  partly 
melted  snow. 

"Admonia,"  said  her  mistress,  pausing  in 
the  doorway,  "where  is  Nellie?" 

"  Laws,  Mis'  Mandy,  I  dunno.  I  hain't  saw 
de  chile  sence  Mr.  Thomas  tuk  her." 

"  When  was  that  ?  "  Amanda's  voice  had  a 
peculiar  ring  which  the  girl  recognized,  and 
knew  the  cause  of.  Her  dusky  face  softened 
into  an  expression  of  sympathy,  and  with  the 
fluency  of  her  race  she  uttered  the  first  consol 
ing  thought  that  came  into  her  head. 

"  Now,  Mis'  Mandy,  honey,  don'  yo'  tak'  on 
-— li'le  Nellie  she  all  safe  'nuff ;  her  pa  done 
tak'  her  wid  him  up  ter  he  room  on'y  lettle 
bit  ago.  She  was  pesterin'  him  ter  show  her 
de  stuffed  owl  what  he  done  brung  home  frum 
Ryburg,  an'  he  jes  tuk  her  wid  him  ter  show 
her.  He — he  all  right,  Mis'  Mandy." 

The   last   sentence  was  spoken  in   a  lower 


84  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

tone,  and  the  harum-scarum  girl,  whom  every 
one  except  her  mother  and  her  mistress  con 
sidered  irreclaimably  rough  and  wild,  averted 
her  eyes  from  Amanda's  pale  face,  and  sitting 
down  again  began  industriously  plucking  her 
fowls. 

Without  another  word,  but  with  one  sharply 
indrawn  breath  that  left  her  lips  white, 
Amanda  entered  the  house  and  ascended  the 
stairs.  As  she  drew  near  a  rear  room  on  the 
second  floor  sounds  reached  her  ear  that 
brought  a  flaming  color  into  her  cheeks  and 
made  her  hasten  her  steps.  The  frightened, 
sobbing  tones  of  a  little  child  came  from  be 
hind  the  closed  door  of  her  husband's  room, 
mingled  with  a  half  articulate  but  apparently 
angry  growl  of  a  deep  masculine  voice. 

Amanda  turned  the  handle  of  the  door  with 
an  expression  that  boded  ill  for  the  person 
who  had  evoked  it.  The  door  resisted  her 
pressure.  It  was  locked.  Then,  in  a  second, 
all  the  smouldering  anxiety  of  the  mother's 
heart  leaped  into  furious  flame. 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  85 

"  Open  this  door  !  "  she  commanded.  There 
was  no  answer.  The  sobbing  ceased. 

"  Mother !  "  called  the  child. 

Amanda  shook  the  door  and  pushed  against 
it  with  all  her  strength.  "  Open  this  door,  or 
I'll  break  it  down !  "  So  her  grandfather  might 
have  thundered  out  an  order  to  some  refrac 
tory  sailor  tin  board  his  own  good  ship.  The 
only  reply  was  an  oath.  The  man  in  his  sober 
senses  addressed  by  any  one,  especially  a 
woman,  in  such  a  manner,  must  have  been 
mild  indeed,  had  he  refrained  from  swearing. 
But  a  mother,  maddened  by  such  fears  as 
lacerated  this  woman's  heart,  takes  nothing 
into  account  but  her  own  feelings.  With  swift 
steps  she  turned  into  her  own  room,  brought 
thence  a  large  and  heavy  hammer  and  gave 
the  door  the  strongest  blow  her  arms  were 
capable  of  throwing  against  it.  Another — and 
another.  The  lock  yielded,  and  Amanda,  hold 
ing  the  hammer  under  her  left  arm,  flew  into 
the  room. 

Could  anything  excuse  or  justify  such  vio- 


86  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

lence  in  a  wife  ?  Would  not  the  man  who  had 
met  force  with  force  and  turning  upon  her, 
knocked  her  down,  have  been  not  only  cleared 
but  applauded  by  any  court  in  a  Christian 
country?  And  in  Virginia,  of  all  other  places, 
the  laws  are  made  for  the  protection  of  men; 
and  public  sentiment  is  in  harmony  with  the 
State's  code. 

Vivian  Thomas  must  then  either  be  despised 
by  those  of  us  who  see  him  leaning  against  the 
wardrobe  in  a  passive  attitude,  while  the 
woman  who  had  vowed  to  love,  honor,  and 
obey  him,  ten  years  before,  effected  this  head 
long  entrance  into  his  own  sacred  stronghold, 
or  he  must  be  considered  a  saint,  enduring 
with  superhuman  patience  the  tantrums  of  a 
domineering  wife.  The  critic  may  take  his 
choice  of  opinions ;  only,  let  us  note  that  the 
handsome  man  now  averting  his  eyes  from 
Amanda's  scorching  glance  is  not  exactly  the 
frank,  fresh-looking  fellow  who  brought  his 
young  bride  to  Benvenew.  All  the  graceful 
bearing,  the  nobility  of  outline,  and  that 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  87 

indescribable  beauty  Nature  confers  upon  her 
favorite  sons,  are  still  here.  The  silky  brown 
mustache  droops  over  sensitive  red  lips  with 
tender,  downward  curves ;  the  white  brow  is 
placid,  and  the  nostrils  delicate  and  fine.  But 
the  entire  effect  is  different.  A  slight  altera 
tion  of  a  few  details  has  changed  everything. 
The  dark  eyes  have  faded  to  a  dull  hazel,  and 
the  whites  have  taken  on  a  yellowish  tinge. 
The  cheeks  have  rather  too  much  color,  the 
flush  extending  to  the  nose.  In  a  word,  Viv 
ian's  countenance,  while  retaining  the  refine 
ment  that  seems  a  part  of  the  very  flesh  of 
some  organisms  and  independent  of  those 
shaping  forces  that  ennoble  or  mar  the  faces 
of  most  people,  betrayed  some  deterioration  of 
the  whole  man. 

He  seemed  rather  embarrassed  than  enraged 
as  Amanda,  panting  from  her  exertions  and 
trembling  from  the  terrible  tension  of  heY 
nerves,  swept  past  him  and  picked  up  a  little 
girl  cowering  in  the  corner. 

Without  staying  for  another  look  or  word 


88  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

she  clasped  the  child  in  her  arms  and  left  the 
room  ;  the  very  atmosphere  charged  with  the 
contempt  that  emanated  from  her  haughty 
spirit  and  which  Vivian  felt,  even  in  his  dulled 
condition,  to  the  core  of  his  being. 

She  carried  the  little  girl  to  her  own  room, 
and  with  hurried  motions  bathed  her  face, 
changed  her  dress,  and  put  on  her  hat  and 
cloak,  all  the  while  uttering  low,  endearing 
words,  and  pressing  tender  kisses  on  the  little 
upturned  face  which  was  lovely  as  an  angel's, 
with  great,  dark  eyes  looking  out  from  a 
thicket  of  golden-brown  curls. 

"Are  we  going  to  grandma's,  mother?" 
Nellie  asked,  as  Amanda  changed  her  wrapper 
for  a  black  silk  dress  and  took  up  her  bonnet 
and  gloves.  Once  before,  about  a  year  ago, 
after  a  scene  between  father  and  mother, 
which  had  deeply  impressed  itself  upon  the 
child's  memory,  she  had  been  taken  in  the 
carriage  to  her  grandmother's,  and  had  re 
mained  there  a  week,  her  mother  with  her. 
It  had  been  a  week  of  rare  delight,  shadowed 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  89 

only  by  two  things :  her  grandmother's  re 
markable  gravity,  and  the  indisposition  of  her 
adored  mother. 

"  Yes,  darling,"  Amanda  answered  hastily, 
as  she  threw  some  things  into  a  satchel  and 
arising  from  her  kneeling  posture  before  a 
chest  of  drawers,  left  the  room  with  her  child, 
locking  the  door  behind  her. 

They  went  straight  to  the  barn,  where 
Amanda  hitched  up  old  Queenie,  her  own  horse, 
to  a  rickety  old  phaeton,  and  drove  out  into 
the  yard,  Admonia  holding  the  gate  open  and 
sniffling  audibly  as  she  muttered  : 

"  Goo'bye,  Mis'  Mandy  ;  goo'bye,  li'le  Nellie. 
Wish't  I  wuz  gwine  wif  ye,  so  I  does." 

"  Be  a  good  girl,  Admonia,"  said  her  mis 
tress,  bending  down  and  giving  the  black 
hand  a  cordial  shake.  "  Look  after  things  as 
well  as  you  can.  You  and  your  mother  are 
all  I  have  to  depend  on  now,  you  know,  since 
Pete  is  gone." 

"  Good-bye,  Admonia  !  "  called  Nellie's  liquid 
tones.  "  Please  take  care  of  my  Bantam  hen  !  " 


go  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

With  the  blessed  elasticity  of  childhood  she 
had  already  partly  recovered  from  the  distress 
of  the  morning,  and  was  able  to  entertain 
charming  visions  of  the  pleasure  before  her. 
But  although  there  is  in  a  child  a  superficial 
light-heartedness,  so  that  we  are  led  to  flatter 
ourselves  that  its  woes  are  soon  over,  it  is  cer 
tain  that  injuries  inflicted  in  the  spirit  of  in 
justice,  sink  deeply  into  the  soul,  and  not 
through  inability  to  forgive,  but  through  in 
ability  to  forget,  the  young  heart  once  wound 
ed  in  the  tender  spot  of  confidence,  never 
again  can  put  forth  vigorous  shoots  of  affec 
tion  toward  the  person  who  has  affronted  it. 
Strange  as  it  seemed  to  the  world  that  in  after 
years  Vivian  Thomas'  fondness  for  his  daugh 
ter  never  evoked  in  her  any  corresponding 
demonstration,  valid  reason  might  have  been 
found  by  one  acquainted  with  the  experience 
of  this  and  other  mornings,  why  Nellie  always 
listened  to  the  praises  bestowed  upon  her  pop 
ular  parent  with  a  pensive  smile,  and  why, 
in  her  dutiful  attention  to  him,  there  was  a 


THE   WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  gi 

reserve  and  hesitancy  widely  different  from 
the  cordiality  of  a  relation  free  from  doubt 
and  fear. 

Mrs.  Powell  met  them  on  the  front  porch. 
She  had  on  her  sun-bonnet  and  gardening- 
gloves,  and  behind  her  stalked  Alex,  armed 
with  her  rake  and  hoe,  his  features  express 
ing  the  contempt  of  his  stronger  nature 
for  the  woman's  tools  he  carried,  tempered 
with  a  respectful  sort  of  indulgence  to 
ward  the  fancies  of  the  best  woman  in  the 
world. 

Ten  years  had  passed  lightly  over  Mrs. 
Powell's  fair  countenance.  At  sixty  she  was 
a  handsome  and  vigorous  old  lady,  the  wear 
and  tear  of  life,  felt  only  through  sympathy 
with  the  troubles  of  others,  showing  mainly 
in  a  thinning  of  the  silver  curls  over  her 
temples,  and  a  few  lines  about  her  true,  mild, 
blue  eyes. 

Her  first  look  told  her  that -something  was 
wrong  with  Amanda,  and  without  any  great 
strain  upon  her  reasoning  powers  she  under- 


92  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

stood  that  the  trouble  had  reference  to  little 
Nellie.  Nothing  else  brought  that  tense  ex 
pression  to  the  mouth  of  her  beautiful  daugh 
ter,  nor  kindled  deep  in  her  black  eyes  the 
glare  that  told  of  unendurable  suffering  and 
unquenchable  resentment. 

"  I  wuz  jes'  goin'  to  pot  a  few  roses  afore 
frost  gits  'em,"  she  said,  after  affectionate 
greetings  had  been  exchanged.  "  Will  ye  set 
out  hyar  on  the  bench  awhile,  honey,  an'  we 
kin  talk  whilst  I  wurk?" 

She  hoped  that  in  the  course  of  a  little  quiet 
talk  Amanda's  fierce  mood  would  give  way  to 
soothing  influences,  and  that  the  injudicious 
things  the  impulsive  woman  was  apt  to  utter 
when  excited  might  remain  upon  this  occasion 
unsaid.  But  now,  as  always,  the  conservative 
policy  of  the  good  woman  only  modified,  but 
could  not  repress  the  burning  indignation  of 
a  spirit  that  could  easier  pardon  great  injuries 
to  itself,  than  the  slightest  wrong  done  to  one 
who  was  incapable  of  self-defense. 

Leaning  her  head  back    against  the  trunk 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  93 

of  the  ancient  magnolia  tree  her  grandfather 
had  planted  here,  Amanda  watched  her  mother 
dig  and  fuss  among  the  roses  and  listened 
with  slight  response  to  her  cheerful  sentences, 
biding  her  time. 

Nellie  flitted  about  like  a  humming  bird, 
coming  every  now  and  then  to  lay  her  little 
head  against  her  mother's  arm  with  a  caress 
ing  touch  that  spoke  well  for  the  relation 
between  the  two.  She  stayed  to  carry  water 
in  her  own  tiny  watering  pot,  when  at  last 
her  grandmother  could  no  longer  make  excuse 
to  stop  out  of  doors,  and  with  a  secret  sigh,  led 
her  daughter  into  the  house. 

"  Well,  honey,"  she  said,  with  an  attempt  at 
treating  matters  lightly.  "You're  not  feeling 
jes'  right  to-day.  Now,  try  to  forgit  all  about 
whatever's  been  plaguin'  you,  and  res'  yo'self 
on  the  sofa,  whilst  I  go  an'  see  about  some- 
thin'  nice  fur  dinner." 

"  No,  no,  mother.  You  know  well  enough 
Aunt  Liza  don't  need  any  suggestions  about 
her  dinner.  And  I  want  to  talk  to  you.  I 


94  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

must.  You'll  be  sorry  if  you  don't  listen  to 
me." 

"  Don't  I  always  listen  to  you,  Mandy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mother,  but  you  don't  always  listen 
willingly.  You  seem  to  think  that  if  things 
are  not  spoken  about  that  it's  the  same  as  if 
they  didn't  exist.  You  think  I'll  stand  things 
better  if  I'm  quiet  about  them." 

"  No,  my  dear  child ;  dear  knows  I'm  ready 
an'  willin'  to  hyar  all  you  want  to  say  if  it 
eases  yo'  mind  any.  But,  honey,  I  do  hate  to 
hyar  yo'  say  sech  hard  things  about  yo'  hus 
band  as  you've  said  to  me  before  when  you 
wuz  put  out." 

"  Put  out !  "  repeated  Amanda,  with  scorn 
ful  emphasis.  "  Oh,  mother,  why  won't  you 
see  the  thing  as  it  is?  A  wife  may  bear  with 
her  husband  and  not  let  anybody  know  what 
she  goes  through,  but  a  mother  with  a  help 
less  little  child  to  defend,  will  be  up  in  arms 
against  a  brute,  and  if  anybody  says  she  is 
wrong  to  take  her  child  away  from  a  father 
that  abuses  her,  why,  they  can  say  it.  I  know 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  95 

in  my  own  heart  what's  right,  and  I'll  not  take 
it  out  in  talk.  I'll  act." 

"  Mandy,  darlin',''  pleaded  her  mother. 
"  Shorely  you're  exaggeratin'.  Vivian's  got 
his  faults,  and  fur  be  it  frum  me  to  defend 
'cm.  I  said  to  Jane  Thomas,  only  last  week, 
at  the  Bush  Meetin',  that  if  Vivian  could  only 
be  persuaded  to  come  up  to  the  bench  then 
an"  thar  an'  promise  to  leave  off  it'd  make  me 
happier'n  I've  been  since  you  wuz  married. 
And  she  said — I  ain't  tellin'  you  to  rile  you 
'gainst  Vivian's  ma  ;  yo'  know  she  feels  fur 
him,  same's  I  feel  most  fur  you — says  Jane; 
'  If  Mandy'd  ashow'd  a  leetle  more  fondness 
Vivian  he'd  a  been  different.  He  always  wuz 
dependent  on  affection,  an'  a  lovin'  woman 
could  hev  done  anythin'  with  him.  Mandy's 
been  cold  as  a  stun,  an'  it's  no  wonder ' — I 
mean  t'say  she  said  it  wuz  a  wonder  't  he 
didnt  go  after  other  women," 

A  hot  color  rushed  into  Amanda's  cheeks, 
and  she  spread  her  hands  widely,  with  a  ges 
ture  of  repulsion.  "  Don't  take  the  trouble  to 


g6  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

try  to  hide  it,"  she  said  in  a  low  tone.  "  Do 
you  think  I  don't  know  what  he  races  down  to 
Richmond  for  every  month  or  two — and  where 
all  the  money  goes  to  ?  Benvenew  falling  to 
pieces,  Nellie  and  I  with  no  clothes  excepting 
what  you  give  us,  and  he — gambler  and  liber 
tine  ! " 

"  Mandy,  Mandy,  hush  !  "  begged  Mrs.  Pow 
ell,  alarmed  at  a  much  more  forcible  expres 
sion  than  Amanda  had  ever  yet  permitted  her 
self. 

"  You  know  it's  true,  mother,"  Amanda 
answered  in  a  softer  manner.  "You  and  I 
and  his  mother  know  all  about  it.  Of  course 
Mrs.  Thomas  blames  me,  and  upholds  him. 
If  it  hadn't  been  for  her  interference  and  con 
tinually  taking  his  part,  I  might  have  made 
him  behave  himself  better.  I  know  all  Fau- 
quier  County  believes  he's  the  injured  innocent. 
I'm  outspoken  and  he's  deceitful.  With  his 
soft,  smooth  manner  outside  it's  not  surprising 
people  think  as  they  do  ;  that  my  temper 
drove  him  to  drink.  And  then  he  never 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  97 

gets  so  far  gone  in  public  as  he  does  at 
home." 

"  Honey,  that's  somethin'  to  be  thankful  fur, 
shorely  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Amanda  with  a  strange 
look.  "  Appearances  are  so  much.  Why, 
even  our  own  minister  took  it  upon  himself, 
not  long  ago,  to  read  me  a  sort  of  veiled 
lecture  about  the  beauty  of  meekness  in  a 
woman.  I'm  tired — tired,  tired  of  being  eter 
nally  misunderstood,  and  of  this  sort  of  '  devil 
and  angel '  game — such  as  the  children  play — 
where  he's  the  angel  and  I'm  the  devil." 

Mrs.  Powell  rocked  back  and  forth  softly,  her 
placid  face  expressing  more  concern  than  had 
ever  appeared  there  before.  There  was  a 
sustained  earnestness  about  Amanda's  bitter 
outpouring  different  from  the  hysterical  anger 
she  was  used  to  show  upon  the  occasions  when 
she  and  her  child  appeared  with  their  traveling 
bag  at  the  Powell  homestead. 

"  Dearie,"  she  said  hesitatingly,  "  do  you 
pray  about  it  ?  " 


98  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

"  We  had  better  let  that  subject  alone," 
Amanda  answered  quietly.  "  I  might  hurt 
your  feelings,  and  I  don't  want  to  do  that, 
mother  dear.  Poor  ma  !  It  isn't  your  fault. 
You  didn't  want  me  to  have  him." 

"  No,  honey,  but  now  you're  married  thar 
ain't  nothin'  else  to  do  but  to  b'ar  it.  Fur  the 
child's  sake,  Mandy,  live  as  peaceable  as  you 
kin.  Think  how  dretful  it  is  fur  her  to  see 
you  two  on  bad  terms  with  one  another." 

"  The  child  !  Yes,  I  should  think— for  her 
sake,"  cried  Amanda,  her  wrath  flashing  forth 
again.  "  It  is  of  her  I'm  thinking  more  than 
anything.  Vivian  Thomas  hasn't  any  more 
love  for  his  child  than  he  has  for  anything  out 
side  of  his  own  pleasure.  He  even  abuses 
her  !  "  And  then  she  told  of  the  scene  of  the 
morning. 

"  Poor  little  thing — poor  little  darling,"  said 
the  grandmother  indignantly  ;  but  adding  in  a 
soothing  tone:  "After  all,  Mandy,  you 
k  low  he  is  the  child's  father,  and  he  maybe 
didn't  hurt  her  much." 


THE   WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  99 

"  What  right  had  he  to  even  go  near  her 
when  he  was  in  that  condition  ?  But,  mother, 
I  tell  you,  it's  not  only  when  he's  the  worse 
for  liquor.  I've  known  him  strike  her  at  other 
times.  He's  cruel.  There  was  always  a  streak 
of  cruelty  in  his  nature.  You  won't  believe  it 
— nobody'd  think  it  to  see  him,  but  I  tell  you 
he  is  born  to  impose  on  weaker  people. 
Nellie  is  afraid  of  him,  and  he  makes  her  little 
life  miserable.  I  can't  stand  it.  People  have 
no  right  to  bring  a  child  into  this  world  and 
make  it  miserable.  It's  my  duty  to  take  her 
away  from  such  a  father." 

"  Yo'  can't  do  that,"  said  Mrs.  Powell. 

"  I  can.  I  can  go  away  and  take  her  with 
me." 

"  Dearie,  now  yo're  talkin'  wild.  Leave  yo' 
husband?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Amanda,  vehemently.  She 
got  up  and  began  to  pace  the  floor.  It  was 
almost  impossible  for  her  to  sit  still,  when  ex 
cited,  and  her  mother  had  long  since  accus 
tomed  herself  to  seeing  her  daughter  moving 


100  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

back  and  forth  with  hurried  yet  measured  steps, 
her  hands  clasped  tightly  in  front  of  her,  while 
she  talked  in  tones  always  growing  lower  and 
clearer  as  her  mind  became  more  energetic. 

"  I've  been  thinking  of  this  for  a  long  time. 
I  took  a  resolution  last  time  it — it  happened, 
that  the  next  time  he  did  anything  to  Nellie, 
I'd  shake  the  dust  of  his  place  from  my  feet. 
It's  not  so  much  his  drinking,  mother — though 
I  believe  any  woman  has  a  right  to  leave  a 
man  that  drinks,  and  that  if  there's  danger  of 
having  children  by  him,  it's  her  duty  to  leave 
him — but  it's  what  he  is  altogether.  I  despise 
Vivian  Thomas." 

"  I  wish  I  knowed  what  to  say  to  you.  I 
know  you  ain't  right,  Mandy.  It's  a  woman's 
place  to  stay  by  the  man  she  marries,  through 
thick  and  thin.  '  Fur  better  or  worse,'  reck 
'lect." 

"  That  was  the  old  idea — the  idea  of  people 
who  made  up  the  form  for  the  marriage  cere 
mony.  It's  a  dead  letter  in  our  law  to-day,  and 
it's  a  dead  letter  in  society,  too.  Does  any- 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  lot 

body  expect  men  and  women  to  stay  tied  all 
their  lives  to  what's  horrible  ?  These  are 
modern  times,  mother." 

"  I'm  afeared  this  comes  o'  that  visit  o'  yo'n 
to  Chicago,  to  Cousin  Lois'  folks,"  lamented 
her  good  mother.  "  I  dunno  nothin'  'bout 
sech  notions.  But  I  do  know  somethin'  'bout 
what  people  think  in  Fauquier  County.  A 
woman  that  leaves  her  husband  puts  herself  in 
the  wrong,  and  no  matter  if  she's  innocent  as 
the  driven  snow  there's  always  a  shadow 
hangin'  to  her.  Jes'  stop  and  think  what 
foiks'd  say,  my  dear  !  " 

"  Aye,"  assented  Amanda,  bitterly.  "  I 
know  what  they'd  say  well  enough.  But  Fau 
quier  County  isn't  the  world.  Why,  mother, 
out  beyond  these  narrow  boundaries  of 
Virginia  there's  free  territory  where  women 
own  their  own  souls,  and  can  think  for  them 
selves.  They  can  even  obey  their  own  con 
science  if  it  leads  them  to  go  against  the 
minister  and  the  church." 

Mrs.  Powell  raised  a  hand  that  trembled  and 


1 02  SOUTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

put  it  up  to  her  temple  with  a  despairing 
gesture.  Tears,  almost  strangers  to  her  gentle, 
serene  eyes,  gathered  and  rolled  down  her 
cheeks. 

"  Pore  Mandy,"  she  said  in  a  choking  voice. 
"  You's  fur  and  away  from  any  ground  whar  I 
kin  meet  up  with  you.  I've  knowed  fur  a  spell 
back  you  ain't  took  no  interest  in  the  church, 
and  I'm  gre'tly  afeared  that's  at  the  bottom  o' 
your  troubles.  If  you  desert  the  Lord  He'll 
desert  you,  honey.  It's  shore  as  I'm  settin' 
hyar." 

Amanda  had  kneeled  down  and  pressed  her 
mother's  head  against  her  shoulder  ;  but  as  the 
good  woman  regarded  her  sadly,  somewhat  as 
she  might  have  regarded  a  sinner  about  to  be 
prayed  for  in  her  congregation,  a  melancholy, 
half-mocking  smile  succeeded  to  the  concern 
on  the  worn,  handsome  face  upon  a  level  with 
her  own. 

"  Do  you  think  if  I  had  worked  for  the  fair 
last  month,  and  had  gone  regularly  to  the 
sewing  society  all  this  while  that  it  might 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  103 

have  helped  to  make  a  different  man  of 
Vivian  ?  " 

"  Maybe  not,  dearie ;  though  the  Lord 
wurks  by  means,  an'  we  can't  tell,"  answered 
her  mother,  na'ively. 

"  Well,  mother,"  Amanda  said,  "  we  can't 
think  just  alike  about  some  things.  You're 
good.  You'd  be  good  whether  you  were  in 
the  Second  Baptist  Church  or  in  Egypt  squat 
ting  before  a  hideous  image.  And  I  must  be 
myself.  I  must  do  what  I  think  right,  no  mat 
ter  what  other  people  think  or  say.  And  I 
think  it  right  to  take  my  child  away  from  a 
father  that  ill-treats  her,  and  who  sets  her  a 
frightful  example  in  every  way." 

"  Why,  you  wouldn't  want  to  cast  such  a 
slur  as  that  on  yo'  daughter.  People'd  throw 
it  up  to  her  always — that  her  father  an' 
mother  didn't  live  together!  " 

"  But  if  she  was  so  much  happier  in  other 
ways  that  she  could  afford  to  stand  the  talk, 
mother?" 

"  No,   Mandy,   no.     Thar  ain't   no   woman 


104  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

that's  come  uv  a  good  family  and  been  raised 
proper,  an'  to  feel  like  a  nice  woman  nat'rally 
does  feel,  but  what'd  ruther  suffer  anything 
else'n  creation  than  to  hev  the  finger  o*  scorn 
pointed  at  her  an'  know  she  or  any  o'  her 
family'd  done  anything  to  desarve  it." 

Mrs.  Powell  had  been  wrought  up  to  a  point 
where  her  feelings  demanded  expression, 
and  she  continued  with  an  earnestness  and  sin 
cerity  that  had  the  effect  of  the  finest  elo 
quence. 

"  Even  if  thar  air  what  yo'  call  '  extenuatin' 
circumstances/  you  couldn't  do  this  thing  with 
out  bringin*  'pon  yo'self  the  very  hardest  trial 
you  could  be  set  to  endure.  You  couldn't  be 
in  any  company  without  thinkin'  uneasily, 
'  Would  these  people  be  willin'  I  sh'd  be 
amongst  'em  if  they  knowed  how  'twas  with 
me  ?  '  In  church  you'd  fancy  every  wurd  the 
preacher  utters  p'inted  straight  at  you.  And 
let  alone  yo'self,  what  wouldn't  you  go  through 
thinkin'  people  wuz  slightin'  Nellie  because  o' 
you?" 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  105 

"  Mother,  mother  ! "  Amanda  cried,  "  you  mis 
take  me.  You're  exaggerating  the  thing.  I — 
I  didn't  mean  divorce  !  " 

"  No,  you  don't  mean  it  now,  but  it'd  come 
to  that.  I  feel  it  in  my  bones,"  said  Mrs. 
Powell,  solemnly. 

"  Well,  now,  dear,  dear  mother,  listen  to 
me,"  her  daughter  pleaded.  "  Suppose  that  — 
finally,  that  was  the  only  way  to  save  myself — 
to — to  protect  myself  from — suppose  we  were 
in  another  place,  in  a  northern  city,  where  no 
body  knows  me  ?  " 

"  Thar  ain't  no  place  on  the  face  of  the  'arth 
so  remote  but  what  talk'd  find  you  out." 

"  Shall  we  be  martyrs,  then,  to  a  few  old 
women's  tongues  ?  Am  I  to  take  the  risk  of  " — 
Amanda  bent  and  finished  her  sentence  in  her 
mother's  ear. 

"  Honey,  shorely  ye  kin  leave  that  in  the 
good  Lord's  hands  !  " 

"  I'd  have  been  in  a  nice  fix  if  I'd  have  left 
it  in  his  hands  all  these  years,"  said  Amanda 
Thomas,  with  a  look  so  skeptical  and  full  of 


1 06  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

accusation  against  something  seen  only  in  her 
mind's  eye,  that  her  mother's  pink  color  faded 
and  left  her  pretty  cheeks  white.  "  That's 
where  our  creeds  differ,  mother.  I  believe  in 
not  leaving  things  to  chance." 

"  I  said  leavin'  'em  to  the  Lord,"  the  old 
lady  amended. 

"  It's  the  same  thing,"  said  Amanda,  reck 
lessly. 

"Oh,  Mandy,  Mandy,  it  gives  me  a  cold  chill 
fur  to  hear  you  talk  so." 

"  I  won't  talk  so,  then.  Heaven  knows  I 
don't  want  to  worry  you  any  more  than  can  be 
helped.  But  let's  look  at  this  thing  reasonably. 
First,  about  Nellie.  The  child  must  and  shall 
have  a  chance  for  a  happy,  peaceful  life.  She 
mustn't  be  tyrannized  over,  and  hampered,  and 
kept  down  ;  she  ought  to  be  well  educated  and 
have  a  fair  chance  in  the  world.  And  for  that 
she  must  be  away  from  here — and  away  from 
her  father." 

"  Why,  I  sh'd  think  her  pa  wuz  the  ve'y 
one  to  help  her  to  an  eddication.  Vivian's 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  107 

smart  enough,  an'  ain't  he  been  to  col- 
lege?" 

"  Yes,  he's  been  to  college,  and  he  can  sing 
sweetly,  the  girls  say,  and  play  the  flute,  and 
read  Horace's  odes  in  the  original,  and  dance 
better  than  any  other  man  in  the  county," 
said  Amanda,  despairingly.  "  But  does  all  that 
make  him  a  good  father,  or  fit  him  to  super 
vise  Nellie's  education?  " 

"  I  dunno  what  more  you  kin  want,  dear," 
answered  her  perplexed  parent. 

"  Woll  !  There  are  certain  moral  qualities. 
We  m  edn't  go  into  it.  To  come  to  myself. 
I'm  a  young  woman  yet,  mother,  only  twenty- 
eight.  Is  my  whole  life  to  be  ruined  for  this 
one  mistake,  made  when  I  was  a  mere  child, 
and  ignorant  of  the  world  as  a  baby  ?  " 

"  You  forgit.  A  woman's  life's  sp'iled  if  she 
leaves  her  husband.  Thar  ain't  no  sech  thing 
as  takin'  a  fresh  start  with  a  livin'  husband  in 
the  background  o'  your  life.  He'd  be  croppin' 
up  yar  an'  thar  an'  ev'ywhar,  wors'n  a  field 
o'  nettles.  Do  you  reckon  Vivian's  goin'  to 


1 08  SO UTHERN  HEAR  TS 

lose  sight  o'  you  ?  And,  moreover,  Mandy,  if 
you  sh'd  go  to  the  dretful  pass  o'  seekin'  a  di 
vorce,  wouldn't  the  law  give  him  the  child  ?  " 

Amanda  started,  and  bent  her  black  brows 
fiercely.  This  was  the  first  argument  her 
mother  had  used  that  she  was  unable  to  answer. 

"  Of  course  the  laws  are  all  in  favor  of  the 
men.  Yes,  they  would  give  my  innocent  dar 
ling — my  baby  that  is  part  of  my  own  flesh  and 
blood,  that  I've  nourished  at  my  breast,  that 
I've  suffered  for  and  lived  for  these  nine  years — 
to  a  besotted,  selfish,  immoral  man  who  would 
never  fulfill  one  duty  toward  her,  and  who 
doesn't  care  for  her  the  worth  of  his  little  finger. 
The  only  thing  is  that  I  don't  believe  he'd 
want  her." 

Mrs.  Powell  shook  her  head.  "  You  can't 
depend  on  that.  Men  always  want  the  last 
thing  you  might  s'pose'd  be  any  use  to  'em. 
They  want  their  own  way,  you  see." 

"  Then  the  only  thing  I  can  do  is  to  keep 
ft  a  secret  where  I  go.  There  are  places 
enough." 


THE  WIFE  OF  LO THA RIO  1 09 

"  An'  how'd  ye  git  along,  poor  child  ?  How'd 
ye  do  cooped  up'n  some  mean  leetle  place 
without  no  run  fur  Nellie,  an'  without  horses, 
nor  anybody  to  do  a  han's  turn  fur  ye  ?  And, 
dearie,  you  know,  even  though  I'd  ruther  you'd 
stay  hyar  by  yo'  duty,  wharever  you  go  my 
lov'd  foller  you,  an'  I'd  always  do  all  in  my 
power.  But  money's  the  one  thing  we  don't 
hev.  If  you're  somewhar  't  you  hev  to  put  yo' 
han'  in  yo'  pocket  fur  ev'y  livin'  thing,  even  to 
an  egg,  or  a  slip  o'  parsley,  how  'pon  'arth'll 
you  do  ?  " 

"  I  mean  to  work,  dear  mother.  I  can  sew, 
and  embroider,  and  do  lots  of  things,"  said 
Amanda,  spreading  her  white  hands  and  look 
ing  at  them  meditatively  ;  not  dreaming,  poor, 
thing,  of  the  thousands  and  thousands  of  other 
defter  and  more  experienced  hands  stretched 
forth  in  the  localities  she  thought  abounding  in 
lucrative  work,  for  the  merest  shadow  of  em 
ployment,  and  the  paltriest  sort  of  recompense. 

In  Mrs.  Powell's  imagination  Amanda  was  a 
rarely  talented  and  capable  woman,  able  to 


no  SO UTHERN  HEARTS 

perform  wonders,  yet  her  shrewd  common  sense 
suggested  difficulties  that  Amanda  could  not 
but  recognize  when  they  were  pointed  out, 
averse  as  she  was  to  consider  any  details  made 
against  her  plan. 

They  talked  over  the  matter  from  every  point 
of  view,  the  elder  woman  reiterating  the  same  ar 
guments  she  had  used  already,  and  the  younger 
one  meeting  them  continually  with  that  free,  lib 
eral  interpretation  of  the  gospel  of  individuality 
which  youth  has  always  flourished  in  the  face 
of  age  and  conservatism. 

Mrs.  Powell  held  out  as  stanchly  as  only  a 
good,  bigoted  Christian  woman,  devoutly  living 
up  to  the  public  opinion  of  an  insular,  moun 
tain  village,  can  hold  out  against  modern 
heresies  striking  at  the  very  foundation  of  her 
social  system,  and  her  religious  beliefs.  But 
Amanda  had  been  for  a  very  long  time  work 
ing  herself  up  to  her  present  resolution,  and 
she  stuck  to  her  purpose  with  unflinching 
steadfastness,  and  had  by  supper-time  succeeded 
in  convincing  her  mother  that  she  was  in  deadly 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  m 

earnest  and  not  to  be  dissuaded.  And  after 
she  had  put  Nellie  into  the  great  old-fashioned 
bed  and  tucked  the  coverlet  about  her  soft, 
warm  little  throat,  she  only  stayed  by  her  long 
enough  to  be  sure  that  the  child  was  sound 
asleep,  then  kissing  the  curls  floating  out  over 
the  pillow,  with  a  fervent  affection  such  as  no 
man  had  ever  known  from  this  woman  with  a 
genius  for  motherhood,  she  stole  away  softly, 
leaving  the  door  ajar,  and  went  back  to  the 
sitting-room  to  talk  to  her  mother  more 
definitely  about  the  plans  she  had  formed  for 
the  future. 

But  hardly  had  the  two  settled  down  before 
the  fire  when,  with  a  rattle  and  a  bang,  very 
unlike  her  old-time  timidity,  Jane  Thomas  flung 
herself  into  the  room. 

"  Sh — h  !  "  said  Amanda,  as  the  heavy  door 
slammed  shut.  "  You'll  wake  Nellie ! "  She 
got  up  and  set  the  door  partly  open  again,  then 
resumed  her  seat,  pushing  the  chair  away  from 
the  hearth  to  make  room  for  her  mother-in-law, 
but  saying  no  word  of  welcome,  for  she  felt 


112  SOU THERN  HEA K  TS 

that  this  visit  was  made  with  some  special  dis 
ciplinary  intention  toward  herself. 

If  ever  a  woman's  face  and  mien  conveyed 
indignation  and  resentment  of  the  splenetic 
sort,  Mrs.  Thomas'  meager  visage  and  thin 
figure  manifested  these  sentiments  as  she  fell 
into  the  chair  drawn  forward  for  her,  and 
turned  her  watery-blue  eyes  upon  her  son's 
wife. 

"  Nellie  ! — to  be  shore  !  "  she  uttered  in  a 
spiteful  whimper.  "  Pity  but  what  yo'd  hev 
a  leetle  consideration  for  other  folks  'sides 
that  child.  Hyar  yo've  done  pitched  onter 
Vivian  and  attackted  him  with  hammers  an' 
druv  him  out'n  his  own  house,  an'  made  a 
scandal  that'll  ring  through  Fauquier  County, 
and  the  saints  above  knows  what  it's  all 
about.  I  thank  the  Lord  I  ain't  got  yo'  disposi 
tion  ! " 

"  You've  a  great  deal  to  be  thankful  for  in 
the  way  of  disposition,"  observed  Amanda. 
She  had  closed  her  lips  tightly,  resolving  to 
maintain  absolute  silence  ;  but  what  woman 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  113 

can  suppress  the  witty  retort  when  her  antag 
onist  exposes  a  vulnerable  point  ? 

"  Seems  ter  me  I'd  be  a  leetle  mo'  humble, 
consider'n'  what  yo've  done.  It'd  become 
you  ter  be  thankful  't  yo'  awful  temper  didn't 
do  no  mo'  harm  'n  it  done.  Not  but  what  it 
done  'nuff  an'  mo'n  I  shu'd  like  ter  hev  'pon 
my  conscience." 

"  If  you'd  take  a  few  of  your  son's  sins  upon 
your  conscience  it  might  give  you  something 
to  do." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  look  fur  nothin'  but  sass  from 
you,  'Mandy  Powell.  Yo've  a  tongue  the 
devil  hisself  'd  fly  frum." 

"  If  Vivian  Thomas  has  run  from  it  you 
must  be  right,"  answered  Amanda. 

Mrs.  Thomas  rocked  back  and  forth  till  her 
chair  creaked  with  a  spiteful  sound  that  seemed 
to  her  hearers  to  be  an  echo  of  her  whining 
voice.  She  expatiated  upon  the  deplorable 
effects  of  her  daughter-in-law's  fearful  outbreak 
of  the  morning,  and  warned  her  that  no  man 

on   earth   was  called  on  to  put  up  with  such 
8 


I  r  4  SO  UTHERN  HEA  R  TS 

tantrums,  and  that  if  she  was  locked  up  in  the 
lunatic  asylum  it  would  be  no  'more  than  she 
had  a  right  to  expect. 

Amanda  put  a  severe  break  upon  her  im 
perious  spirit  and  said  no  more  words  in  reply 
until  at  last  Mrs.  Thomas  brought  out  her 
final  taunt,  that  she  had  only  run  away  for  the 
purpose  of  getting  Vivian  to  come  after  her 
and  bring  her  back ;  and  for  this  time  she  was 
mistaken.  She  would  have  to  stay  away  a 
mighty  long  while  if  she  waited  for  him  to 
fetch  her,  and  she'd  be  glad  to  creep  home 
again  by  the  time  everybody  cried  shame  upon 
her. 

Then  Amanda  arose  and  stood  before  her 
adversary,  tall  and  majestic,  with  her  arms 
folded  across  her  swelling  chest,  and  her  black 
brows  bent  in  such  a  frown  as  made  Jane 
Thomas'  cowardly  heart  flutter,  until  she 
thought  of  the  impossibility  of  a  personal  en- 
counter  with  this  woman,  whom  she  would 
have  given  half  her  possessions  to  conquer 
and  humiliate. 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  115 

"  I  say  to  you  here  and  now,"  said  Amanda, 
using  unconsciously  an  orotund  quality  of 
voice  that,  together  with  her  pose,  rendered 
her  delivery  so  forceful  that  her  words  stamped 
themselves  upon  the  memory  of  both  her 
hearers :  "  I  have  left  Vivian  Thomas'  roof 
forever.  Spread  the  fact  as  fast  as  you  please  ; 
gloat  upon  the  scandal  it  will  create  in  this 
gossiping  little  place,  and  tear  my  reputation 
to  pieces  as  fast  as  you  want  to.  No  power 
under  Heaven  can  make  me  look  upon  that 
man's  face  again,  or  pass  a  moment  in  his  com 
pany  ! " 

For  a  few  seconds  there  was  a  hush  in  the 
air,  as  if  a  missile  had  been  thrown,  and  an  ef 
fect  was  looked  for.  People  often  experience 
this  momentary  apprehension  when  some  pe 
culiarly  definite  and  emphatic  stand  has  been 
taken  by  anyone  ;  as  if  definiteness,  in  this 
changing  world,  was  a  crime  to  bring  down 
punishment. 

But  effects  rarely  follow  so  swiftly  as  those 
that  came  upon  the  heels  of  Amanda's  decla- 


1 1 6  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

ration.  Hardly  had  her  voice  died  away  when 
her  mother  arose  hastily,  crying  : 

"  Hark,  what  's  that  ?  " 

There  were  sounds  of  dogs  barking,  voices 
exclaiming,  and  the  quick,  irregular  gallop  of 
a  horse's  feet  coming  up  to  the  front  porch. 
The  three  women  stood  looking  at  each  other, 
when  a  wild  figure  with  eyes  starting  out  of 
its  head,  wool  standing  on  end,  and  gown  half 
torn  from  its  back,  burst  into  the  room,  and 
Admonia  cried  out  in  a  hoarse  voice  : 

"  Mis'  Mandy,  Mis'  Mandy  !  Fur  de  Lawd's 
sake,  Mis'  Mandy — Mr.  Vivian  done  fell  off'n 
he's  horse  inter  Mowbry  Gulch  an'  b'oke  he's 
neck ! " 


III. 


MOWBRAY  GULCH  was  a  danger-pit  lying 
midway  between  Sampson's  Tavern  and  Ben- 
venew.  The  road  narrowed  after  passing 
Bloomdale,  and  wound  around  the  spur  of  the 
Blue  Ridges  known  as  Round  Peak,  in  a  man- 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  117 

ner  only  a  native  could  have  understood. 
Vivian  had  traversed  the  narrow  bridle-path 
thousands  of  times  without  a  thought  of  dan 
ger,  galloping  past  at  night  in  that  spirit  of 
confidence  characteristic  of  a  Virginia  boy,  said 
to  be  "  born  on  horseback." 

The  accident  must  have  occurred  early  in 
the  evening,  for  a  passer-by  on  his  way  home 
to  supper  found  a  hat  and  whip  on  the  road 
near  the  edge  of  the  Gulch,  and  looking  down, 
discovered  a  man's  form  on  the  rocks,  twenty 
feet  below,  lying  perfectly  motionless,  with  a 
white  face  upturned  to  the  sky. 

At  least  three  hours  had  intervened  between 
that  and  Admonia's  alarm,  and  when  the  three 
women  arrived  in  Jane  Thomas'  wagon  (she 
had  wept,  and  abused  her  daughter-in-law  all 
the  way)  they  had  found  many  neighbors  upon 
the  scene,  and  the  doctor  bending  over  some 
thing  stretched  out  on  a  mattress  by  the  road 
side. 

"  He  is  living,"  were  the  words  they  heard 
as  they  came  up,  and  Mrs.  Thomas  broke  out 


1 1 8  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

into  wails  of  thankfulness,  while  Mrs.  Powell 
breathed  more  quietly  a  prayer  as  grateful. 
Amanda  said  no  word,  but  a  deep  sigh  exhaled 
from  her  burdened  chest,  and  she  tried  to  draw 
nearer.  A  friendly  hand  held  her  back.  Edgar 
Chamblin's  blue  eyes  glimmered  anxiously  in 
the  light  of  the  lantern  he  was  holding,  and  he 
said  with  kindly  insistence : 

"  I  wouldn't  go  nigh  him  jes'  yet,  Mis' 
Mandy.  We're  goin'  ter  tote  him  ovah  t' 
cousin  Evy  Smith's.  Her'n  is  the  nighest 
house,  an*  Doctor  Sowers  says  he  must  be 
taken  ter  the  ve'y  nighest  place." 

"  Can't  he  be  taken  home  ?  "  wailed  Vivian's 
mother.  "  I  mean  to  my  house  whar  he  kin  be 
taken  cyar  uv  ?  "  with  a  spiteful  look  at  her 
daughter-in-law. 

The  doctor  looked  up  anxiously.  Vivian's 
closed  lids  had  quivered  for  a  second  and  a 
look  of  consciousness  appeared,  then  faded 
away.  With  tender  hands  he  was  laid  on  the 
cot  that  now  arrived  and  carried  over  the  field 
to  Miss  Eva  Smith's  cottage,  where  the  little 


THE   WrFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  119 

bedroom  off  the  parlor  had  been  made  ready 
for  him,  and  the  best  bed  was  spread  with  every 
dainty  piece  of  linen  the  spinster  could  draw 
from  her  treasured  store. 

So  it  was  upon  a  lace-trimmed,  hemstitched 
pillow-slip  that  the  beautiful  head  of  the  in 
jured  man  reposed,  and  over  him  was  spread 
a  silk  quilt  that  had  long  been  the  pride  of 
Miss  Evy's  maiden  heart,  and  which  she  now 
brought  forth  with  a  solemn  sense  of  conse 
cration. 

Miss  Evy  was  a  thin,  fragile  woman,  with  a 
figure  that  had  once  been  willowy,  but  was  now 
angular ;  blue  eyes  that  once  were  like  forget- 
me-nots,  contrasting  with  tender,  coral  lips  and 
baby  blond  hair ;  but  tears  shed  in  secret  had 
washed  the  blue  from  her  eyes  and  the  peachy 
bloom  from  her  oval  cheeks,  until  only  a  faint 
reminiscence  remained  of  the  beauty  which 
had  captivated  Vivian  Thomas'  boyish  fancy. 
One  of  the  peculiarities  of  Vivian's  fortune  was 
that  the  women  he  had  wooed  and  forsaker 
remained  faithful  to  him  till  death,  cherishing 


120  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

no  resentment  and  seeking  no  retaliation  ;  but, 
instead,  biding  the  time  when  by  some  act  of 
service  they  could  prove  the  strength  of  an 
affection  that  always  had  in  it  an  element  of 
maternal  fondness. 

Why  some  men  whose  paths  through  life 
are  marked  by  the  broken  hearts  of  women 
should  experience  from  those  they  injure  the 
tenderness  and  leniency  seldom  or  never  ac 
corded  to  better  but  rougher  men  is  something 
only  to  be  explained  by  the  waywardness  of 
feminine  nature.  The  majority  of  women  like 
to  be  martyred,  but  resent  frank  abuse.  The 
weakly  child  of  the  flock  easily  converts  his 
mother  into  a  slave,  even  though  she  perceives 
through  the  veil  of  feebleness  the  force  of 
egotism.  And  in  the  same  way  the  man  of 
soft  manners,  winning  voice,  and  insinuating 
tongue,  may  play  the  tyrant  at  his  pleasure,  and 
be  admired  and  adored  by  women  whose  slav- 
ishness  is  a  conscious  concession  to  some 
imagined  delicacy  that  appeals  to  their  mater 
nal  instinct. 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  121 

In  the  humble  heart  of  Miss  Evy  her  girl 
hood's  hero  had  maintained  his  place,  not 
withstanding  her  conscientious  efforts  after 
Vivian's  marriage  to  think  of  him  as  something 
entirely  apart  from  her  life.  Thinking  of  him 
was  a  privilege  she  allowed  herself  under  cer 
tain  restrictions.  She  thought  of  him  when 
she  prayed,  when  she  sang  in  the  choir  on 
Sunday  and  Wednesday  nights,  and  when  she 
worked  in  her  flower-garden.  Most  of  all  then, 
for  long  ago  he  had  been  used  to  stop  his 
horse  and  stand  outside  the  low  stone  fence, 
with  his  arm  through  the  bridle-rein,  and  talk 
with  her  in  a  playfully  sentimental  way  that 
she  had  thought  the  prettiest  sort  of  love-mak 
ing.  And  so,  to  keep  him  out  of  her  mind 
when  she  tended  her  spotted  lilies  and  trained 
the  purple  wistaria,  was  as  impossible  as  it 
would  have  been  to  avoid  the  connection  be 
tween  the  sky  and  the  gracious  heaven  lying 
beyond. 

It  was  an  innocent  indulgence  that  did  not 
infringe  upon  the  rights  of  Vivian's  wife,  and 


122  SO  UTHERN  ffEA  R  TS. 

did  no  harm  to  the  gentle  woman  herself ;  for 
it  kept  alive  her  faith  in  human  nature  and 
trust  in  the  compensations  Providence  has  in 
store  for  those  who  have  been  denied  their 
heart's  desire  in  this  world.  And  these  are 
feelings  that  die  out  in  most  of  us  under 
the  scourge  of  disappointment  and  leave 
something  worse  than  heartache  in  their 
room. 

There  had  been  days  when  the  loneliness  of 
her  self-chosen,  single  lot  had  been  too  hard  to 
be  borne,  and  sometimes  then  Miss  Evy  would 
steal  to  the  window  of  her  little  spare  front 
room,  and  peep  guiltily  through  a  slit  in  the 
blue  shade  to  watch  for  a  sight  of  Vivian  rid 
ing  past,  and  when  the  longed-for  vision  ap 
peared,  she  would  start  back  with  her  hand  on 
her  heart  and  a  hot  color  in  her  delicate  cheek, 
but  he  never  saw  her,  nor  ever  dreamed  of  her 
observation.  If  he  had  he  would  have  dis 
mounted  and  chatted  with  her  for  a  few  min 
utes  at  the  gate  ;  for  Vivian  was  ever  tender 
toward  the  women  who  worshiped  him,  and 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  123 

he  would  have  valued  the  eloquent  if  silent 
appreciation  of  this  faithful  heart,  and  taken 
comfort  in  the  sympathy  she  would  have  ex 
pressed  at  least  in  looks  ;  rumor  having  carried 
to  her  news  of  scenes  at  Benvenew,  little  to 
Amanda's  credit. 

As  she  stood  back  behind  the  door,  and 
watched  from  this  little  distance  hands  that 
had  a  better  right  than  her  own  minister  to 
the  man  she  loved,  a  pang  of  jealousy  sent  its 
jarring  quiver  through  all  her  nerves ;  but  the 
next  instant  it  was  succeeded  by  the  thankful 
feeling  that  it  was  hers  to  extend  hospitality, 
to  furnish  the  means  of  comfort,  and  mayhap, 
her  privilege,  while  others  rested,  to  help  nurse 
him  back  to  health. 

There  was  something  for  everyone  to  do 
that  night,  for  the  country  doctor  worked  with 
the  bustle  that  grows  out  of  the  necessity  of 
finding  occupation  for  the  officious  onlookers 
who  must  not  be  offended.  Something  for 
everybody  excepting  Jane  Thomas,  whose 
hysterical  condition  made  her  such  a  nuisance 


124  so UTHERN  HEAR  TS. 

that  even  Dr.  Sowers  could  think  of  no  more 
diplomatic  suggestion  than  that  she  should  go 
somewhere  and  lie  down — and  take  some  warm 
water  and  brandy. 

"  And  me  a  Blue  Ribboner  !  "  she  moaned 
resentfully. 

Amanda  was  a  born  nurse ;  self-restrained, 
level-headed,  tender  and  strong,  she  won  golden 
laurels  in  the  doctor's  opinion  as  she  quietly 
took  her  place  at  his  side,  and  intelligently 
carried  out  his  wishes  without  comment  or 
question.  Her  mother  went  home  at  nine 
o'clock  to  take  care  of  little  Nellie,  the  doctor 
having  stated  his  opinion  that  although  there 
was  concussion  of  the  brain,  Vivian's  hurt 
would  not  necessarily  prove  fatal.  The  state 
of  coma  might  be  followed  by  brain  fever,  but 
with  good  nursing  his  fine  constitution  would 
bring  him  through. 

"  It's  sartenly  a  special  Providence,"  thought 
Mrs.  Powell,  when  Amanda  told  her  that  she 
should  stay  at  the  cottage.  "  Don't  you  take  a 
mite  o'  fear  'bout  Nellie ;  you  know  she'd  stay 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  125 

with  me  contented  fur  any  length  o'  time,"  she 
said,  as  she  left. 

"  But  you'll  bring  her  over  to  see  me  for  a 
few  minutes  when  you  come  to-morrow," 
Amanda  urged,  and  her  mother  answered  :  "Uv 
coas,  honey,  we'll  come  over  right  'arly.  Don't 
you  get  wore  out  now  ;  you  and  Miss  Evy  take 
tu'ns  settin'  up." 

It  had  required  considerable  effort  to  induce 
Mrs.  Thomas  to  see  things  in  the  light  of  her 
uselessness,  and  it  was  the  doctor  himself  who 
finally  carried  her  off  and  left  the  house  to  Miss 
Evy  and  Amanda.  It  was  late  when  they 
found  themselves  alone  in  the  little  room  where 
lay  the  still  form  of  the  man  who  was  dearer 
than  her  heart's  best  blood  to  the  one  woman, 
and  to  the  other — who  shall  say  whether  dear, 
or  no  ? 

Amanda  had  never  been  in  love  with  the 
all-conquering  hero  of  Fauquier  County.  At 
eighteen  she  had  been  in  love  with  love ;  and 
Vivian  was  nearer  the  embodiment  of  her  ideal 
than  any  other  whom  she  knew.  The  high- 


126  SO UTHERN  HEAR  TS. 

est  powers  of  our  nature  remain  latent  in  most 
of  us  for  lack  of  opportunity  to  develop.  It  may 
be  a  talent,  it  may  be  a  virtue  that  stays  in  the 
germ  throughout  all  the  ups  and  downs  of  our 
career,  and  that  we  pass  on  to  our  children  to 
come  out  in  them  as  practical  capacity. 

Although  Amanda  had  in  her  nature  a  rare 
power  of  wifely  devotion,  it  was  of  the  royal 
order ;  it  could  not  stoop,  and  so  it  died  away. 
And  in  its  stead  had  grown  to  mighty  propor 
tions  the  mother-love  that  extends  in  women 
of  a  high  type  beyond  the  instinctive  care  of 
her  own  young,  to  an  all-embracing  tenderness 
toward  feeble  creatures  of  every  degree.  The 
little  ones,  the  helpless,  the  sick  appealed  to 
this  strong,  self-poised  woman  in  a  way  that 
called  out  every  capacity  for  self-sacrifice  that 
lay  in  her,  and  she  would  have  wrestled  with 
death  and  all  the  evil  powers  to  save  from  harm 
anything  which  confided  itself  to  her  protection. 

The  vigorous,  healthy  Vivian,  contemptu 
ously  setting  at  naught  her  standards  of  duty, 
and  wounding  her  dignity  in  a  hundred  ways, 


THE   WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  127 

was  so  repulsive  to  her  moral  sense  that  she  was 
ready  to  fly  from  him  as  from  a  pestilence. 
But  Vivian  cast  down  from  his  height  of  grace 
ful  insolence  and  dependent  upon  her  kind 
offices,  had  claims  before  which  every  critical 
faculty  bowed  itself.  All  she  thought  of  now 
was  how  to  help  him. 

"  Do  you  think  he'll  come  to  in  his  right 
mind  ?"  asked  Miss  Evy  in  a  low  murmur,  after 
half  an  hour  had  passed  in  silence.  She  could 
not  stand  it  any  longer.  She  felt  as  if  she  must 
say  something.  That  handsome,  calm  woman 
seated  at  the  head  of  the  bed  awed  her,  and  at 
the  same  time  irritated  her.  In  some  vague 
way  she  felt  that  Amanda  was  to  blame  for 
Vivian's  accident.  Like  Mrs.  Thomas  she  felt 
that  if  the  wife  had  fallen  into  spasms  of  self- 
reproach  it  would  have  been  more  fitting  than 
this  display  of  courage  and  energy.  Yet  she 
was  glad,  too,  for  his  sake  that  there  was  some 
one  at  hand  able  to  "  take  holt  and  do  what 
ever  wuz  needed." 

Amanda  looked  over  at  the  gentle  spinster 


128  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

pleasantly,  but  replied  only  by  a  faint  shake  of 
the  head.  Her  watch  lay  open  upon  the  stand 
beside  a  glass  of  medicine,  covered  with  a  hymn 
book.  Upon  the  book  lay  a  thin  silver  spoon 
marked  with  the  initials  of  Miss  Evy's  grand 
mother.  It  was  one  of  six,  and  Miss  Evy  only 
used  them  upon'rare  occasions. 

Amanda  still  wore  her  black  silk,  and  over  it 
she  had  tied  one  of  her  hostess'  white  aprons, 
made  of  fine  nainsook  and  trimmed  with  a  deep 
border  of  home-made  lace.  Aprons  are  the 
least  neutral  of  garments,  for  they  have  the 
effect  of  bringing  into  view  certain  values  in 
their  wearer.  By  this  touchstone  some  women 
are  instantly  proclaimed  dowdies  ;  others  ap 
proved  as  domestic,  and  still  others  marked  out 
as  queens  or  fairies  masquerading.  The  natural 
servant  wears  her  apron  smartly ;  the  born 
chatelaine  with  an  inimitable  grace.  Upon 
Amanda's  magnificent  figure  the  garment  as 
sumed  the  air  of  the  imperial  purple,  and  Miss 
Evy,  watching  her  meekly,  acknowledged  in 
her  successful  rival  some  rare  quality  which  she 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  ^9 

could  not  name,  but  which  seemed  to  account 
for  and  justify  the  ascendancy  she  was  said  to 
exercise  over  all  her  family. 

At  midnight  Vivian  opened  his  eyes. 
"  Whoa,  Sultan  !  "  he  uttered  in  feeble  tones, 
and  made  a  motion  with  his  hand  as  if  he 
pulled  upon  the  reins.  Miss  Evy  started,  but 
Amanda  laid  her  finger  on  her  lips  and  bending 
over  him,  said  softly  : 

"  Drink  this,  Vivian,"  putting  a  glass  to  his 
lips.  He  drank  all  she  gave  him  eagerly,  then 
his  head  fell  back  upon  the  pillow,  and  he  slept 
till  dawn. 

Miss  Evy  was  persuaded  to  retire  toward 
morning.  She  would  have  preferred  to  sit  there 
and  watch,  but  she  could  not  say  so,  and  she 
was  compelled  to  steal  away  upstairs,  and  leave 
Vivian  to  his  wife,  who  kept  unwinking  vigil 
until  the  first  glimmer  of  light  shot  through  the 
closed  blinds  of  the  east  window.  Then  she 
arose  and  put  out  the  lamp,  and  noiselessly  rais 
ing  the  window  let  the  pure,  fresh  mountain  air 
into  the  little  room.  During  her  watchful  night 


130  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

her  mind  had  been  entirely  occupied  with 
Vivian's  condition  ;  she  had  not  thought  of 
herself.  But  now,  as  the  sun  touched  the  tip 
of  Round  Peak  and  crept  downward  till  the 
whole  valley  was  illumined  with  the  light  of  a 
perfect  October  day,  she  became  conscious,  with 
a  thrill  of  pain,  of  that  feeling  of  personal  life 
and  identity  which  is  so  strong  and  vivid  when, 
in  some  beautiful  spot  isolated  from  the  whirl 
of  cities,  we  open  our  eyes  upon  a  new  day. 

There  is  no  other  joy  so  fine  and  none  so 
fleeting,  perhaps,  as  this  stirring  of  our  indi 
vidual  energies  by  the  breath  of  that  mighty 
living  force  that  recreates  us  each  morning  after 
the  apathy  of  night.  At  this  instant  of  recog 
nition  the  day  belongs  to  us  and  the  air  resounds 
with  a  paean  of  wonderful  hopes  and  promises, 
as  if  our  single  personality  were  the  only  con 
cern  of  nature.  Soon  the  responsibilities  of  our 
relations  to  others  crowd  out  this  sense  of  in 
dividual  life  and  the  momentary  Sabbath-peace 
of  the  soul  is  broken  up  by  the  work-a-day  hum 
of  jarring  machinery.  So,  swift  upon  the  ex- 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  131 

altation  aroused  in  Amanda  by  the  influence  of 
an  unshared  sunrise,  came  the  disappointing 
sense  of  check  and  defeat  to  her  own  purposes 
and  plans,  which  had  been  wrought  within  the 
last  few  hours.  None  of  the  reasons  that  led  to 
her  decision  to  go  away  and  begin  a  new  life 
remote  from  these  surroundings  had  altered. 
Fauquier  County  was  still  limited,  narrow,  and 
hostile  to  Nellie's  mental  development ;  Ben- 
venew  was  still  poverty-stricken,  and  no  new 
resources  suggested  themselves.  And  Vivian 
was  still  the  old  Vivian,  with  all  his  vices  upon 
his  head,  and  likely  with  the  first  hour  of  re 
turning  health  to  repel  and  disgust  her,  just  as 
he  had  been  doing  all  along.  Every  condition 
she  had  dwelt  upon  as  urgent  cause  of  flight 
was  unchanged ;  and  yet,  with  lightning  swift 
ness  was  accomplished  that  resolution,  paral 
leled  in  the  experience  of  every  one  of  us,  by 
which  the  one  whose  offenses  had  banished  him 
from  her  consideration,  was  made  through  sud 
den  appeal  to  pity,  the  object  of  first  import 
ance  to  her. 


132  SOUTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

As  Amanda  turned  from  the  window  and 
approached  the  bed  where  Vivian  was  now 
opening  eyes  in  which  the  light  of  reason  was 
absent,  she  turned  her  back  upon  all  the  rosy 
hopes  that  had  been  dwelling  in  her  imagi 
nation,  and  took  up  the  burden  of  a  hard  and 
painful  duty.  For  she  was  aware  through  the 
prophetic  insight  that  flashes  through  our  acts 
into  the  region  of  remote  consequences,  that 
out  of  the  immediate  obligation  of  nursing  her 
husband  back  to  health  and  strength,  would 
grow  ties  that  would  cramp  and  fetter  all  her 
future.  Her  only  defense  against  whatever  his 
will  might  impose  upon  her  had  been  in  her 
feeling  of  antagonism.  For,  strong  and  self- 
poised  as  she  was,  she  had  the  woman's  weak- 
point  of  an  intense  susceptibility,  and  if  she 
had  achieved  the  wish  to  be  hard  as  nails,  the 
first  touch  from  a  beseeching  hand  would  in 
evitably  break  through  the  crust  and  betray 
the  lurking  softness  beneath. 

It  was  with  a  quiver  of  fright  that  she  re 
alized,  as  she  raised  Vivian's  head  upon  her 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO  133 

arm  and  felt  him  weakly  recline  against  it,  that 
the  barriers  would  soon  be  broken  down  be 
tween  them,  and  that  there  might  enter  into 
her  heart,  destitute  of  respect  and  esteem  that 
pitiful  substitute  for  true  affection,  a  self-im 
molating  tenderness  that  leads  judgment  into 
abysses  where  poisonous  plants  grow,  exhal 
ing  odors  detrimental  to  sanity  and  health. 
The  flash  of  fear  came  and  went,  and  no  one, 
save  her  mother,  ever  knew  what  Amanda's 
concession  meant  to  her,  and  what  it  involved. 

Miss  Evy  had  passed  a  sleepless  night,  and 
at  six  o'clock  she  crept  softly  down  to  the  door 
of  Vivian's  bedroom  and  stood  for  a  moment 
before  she  knocked,  listening  for  sounds  that 
she  dreaded  to  hear,  the  sound  of  incoherent 
murmuring,  in  femininely  sweet  tones. 

"  Come  in,"  Amanda  called,  and  she  entered, 
with  a  scared,  anxious  face  and  timid  step. 

"He's  out  of  his  mind,  ain't  he?"  she 
queried  pitifully,  and  Amanda  made  an  as 
senting  movement  of  the  head. 

Vivian's  delirium  was  not  violent  at   first, 


134  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

and  he  submitted  to  requirements  with  a  gentle 
ness  that  was  like  his  ordinary  courtesy.  But 
he  recognized  no  one  for  many  days,  showing 
a  preference,  however,  for  Amanda  and  her 
mother,  over  all  the  others  who  came  in  to 
offer  their  services.  His  wife  seemed  to  have 
a  peculiarly  soothing  effect  upon  him,  and 
with  another  variation  from  his  attitude  when 
in  health,  he  was  impatient  and  fretful  when 
ever  his  mother  appeared.  Mrs.  Thomas 
took  this  hard,  and  in  the  parlor  of  the  cottage, 
where  she  sat  most  of  the  time  seeing  callers, 
she  bewailed  the  ingratitude  of  her  son,  and 
whispered  dark  sayings  against  Amanda — 
"  who  wuz  tryin*  now  to  throw  dust  in  people's 
eyes  by  makin'  out  she  was  dreadful  fond  o' 
him,  when  if  the  truth  wuz  told — " 

It  seemed  as  if  everybody  within  ten  miles 
around  came  with  offers  of  help  and  utter- 
ances  of  sympathy  ;  the  last  delivered  only  to 
Mrs.  Thomas  and  Miss  Evy,  for  few  persons 
saw  Amanda.  For  ten  days  she  watched  by 
Vivian's  bedside  with  a  devotion  that  com- 


THE   WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  135 

pletely  revolutionized  all  Miss  Evy's  ideas  of 
her,  and  astonished  even  her  mother.  And 
when,  from  the  very  jaws  of  death,  Vivian 
came  slowly  back  to  life,  he  had  become  to 
her  like  a  dear  child,  whom  it  was  her  duty 
to  shield  and  minister  to,  and  treat  with  a 
tenderness  unmingled  with  criticism.  Whether 
this  mental  attitude  would  continue  was  a 
question.  Mrs.  Powell  held  counsel  about  it 
with  herself,  and  made  it  a  subject  of  prayer : 
"  That  Mandy  would  go  on  bein*  forgivin'  an* 
lovin'  an'  that  all'd  go  well  betwixt  her  an'  her 
husband." 

The  exquisite  season  of  Indian  Summer, 
the  fifth  season  of  the  year  in  the  mountain 
region  of  Virginia,  set  in  early,  and  one  morn 
ing  when  the  air  was  so  soft  that  it  brought 
to  the  surface  all  the  gentle,  kindly  impulses 
of  hearts  that  stiffen  and  congeal  under  the 
rough  touch  of  frost,  Amanda  found  herself 
curiously  moved  as  she  stepped  lightly  about 
Vivian's  room,  waiting  for  him  to  awake. 

It  often  happens  that  a  mental  preparation 


1 36  SO UTHERN  HEAR  TS. 

unconsciously  takes  place  in  us  for  events 
about  to  happen.  A  letter  is  on  its  way  to 
us,  and  we  think  of  the  writer,  sometimes 
expressing  a  solicitude  the  letter's  contents 
justify.  A  friend  visits  us  and  we  meet  him 
with  the  remark  that  we  were  at  that  moment 
longing  for  his  presence.  Some  catastrophe 
takes  place  that  we  were  anticipating,  and  if 
a  pleasure  is  in  the  air  its  approach  is  heralded 
by  a  peculiar  elation  and  excitement  that  our 
occupations  cannot  account  for. 

These  are  more  tangible  things,  and  easier 
to  understand  than  the  subtle  atmospheric 
changes  that  pass  along  from  heart  to  heart. 
How  can  we  explain  the  power  affection  has 
to  send  its  prophet  before  to  prepare  for  its 
coming?  In  some  unexpected  hour  a  certain 
something  tugs  at  our  heart-strings  and  tunes 
them  up  so  that  when  the  right  hand  is  ex 
tended  a  melody  is  evoked  that  we  did  not 
think  of  or  intend. 

Amanda  was  a  practical  woman,  not  an  emo 
tional  one,  but  she  was  not  therefore  any  the 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  137 

less  alive  to  fine  shades  of  feeling.  She  dusted 
the  bedroom  with  a  piece  of  dampened  cheese- 
'cloth,  set  carefully  upon  the  stand  the  slender 
necked  Bohemian  vase  of  flowers  that  were 
Miss  Evy's  morning  tribute,  and  laid  out  clean 
towels  beside  the  basin  of  fresh  water  upon 
the  chair  by  the  bed,  as  methodically  as  usual. 
Yet  she  was  conscious  of  being  in  a  state  of 
expectancy,  as  if  she  stood  upon  the  eve  of 
something. 

Vivian  opened  his  eyes,  larger  and  clearer 
for  his  three  weeks'  illness,  and  looked  in  her 
face  with  that  solemn  expression  that  accom 
panies  the  return  of  consciousness  after  the 
delirium  of  fever,  and  she  trembled  under  the 
rush  of  tenderness  that  his  gaze  awakened. 

"  Amanda  !  "  he  said  feebly,  "  you  in  here  ! 
Aren't  you  up  early  ?  " 

"  Not  so  very  early,  dear,"  she  responded, 
very  gently.  "  It's  you  who  have  slept 
late." 

"  Strange  I  don't  feel  more  like  getting  up," 
he  remarked.  Then  his  gaze  wandered  over 


138  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

the  room,  and  came  back  in  perplexity  to  her 
face. 

"  Are  you  the  genii  ?  "  he  asked  with  a  little 
smile. 

"  Am  I  what  ?  "  She  thought  his  wits  were 
wandering  again. 

"  The  genii.  I  must  be  Prince  Camaralza- 
man.  I  went  to  sleep  in  my  own  room  last 
night,  and  wake  up  in  this,  which  I  vow  I 
never  saw  before." 

"  You  were  indeed  brought  here,  but  not 
from  your  own  room.  You  have  been  here 
three  weeks,  Vivian.  You  fell  from  your  horse 
into  Mowbray  Gulch  and  hurt  your  head,  and 
you  have  had  brain  fever.' 

She  spoke  slowly,  and  he  followed  her  words 
attentively,  closing  his  eyes  when  she  was 
through,  and  lying  perfectly  quiet  for  a  minute. 
Then  he  said  : 

"  Where  is  '  here  ?  '  " 

"  We  are  nt  Miss  Evy  Smith's.  Her  house 
was  the  nearest  place,  you  know,  and  you  had 
to  be  brought  here." 


THE   WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  139 

•'  Evy  Smith's  !  "  he  repeated,  with  a  strange 
little  laugh.  "  That's  singular."  After  an 
interval,  he  added  : 

"  Has  she  been  nursing  me?" 

"  She  helped.  She  has  been  very,  very  kind. 
A  sister  could  not  have  done  more." 

"  She  was  always  sweet  and  obliging,"  he 
observed.  "  But — Amanda,  come  sit  down  on 
the  bed,  won't  you  ?  My  voice  seems  mighty 
weak,  somehow." 

"  I  mustn't  let  you  talk,"  Amanda  said.  She 
sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the  bed,  and  as  she 
did  so  a  flush  settled  upon  her  firm  cheek  and 
stayed  there.  Not  for  three  years  had  she 
been  so  close  to  him.  Perhaps  he  remembered, 
too.  What  he  said  was  : 

"  So  it  is  you  who  have  been  taking  care  of 
me  ?  It  was  good  of  you,  Amanda.  I  think 
you  must  have  grown  rather  fond  of  me  while 
I've  been  at  your  mercy  here." 

That  unerring  tact  of  his  suggested  exactly 
the  right  thing  to  say.  Not  a  word  to  jar  the 
delicate  springs  of  feeling  that  had  been  set  at 


1 40  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

work  in  her,  and  not  a  sign  that  he  meant  to 
take  advantage  of  her  changed  attitude. 

He  was  too  weak  to  think  such  matters  out. 
He  merely  obeyed  the  keen  instinct  that  be 
longs  to  natures  like  his,  in  emphasizing  by 
this  casual  allusion  the  leniency  and  indulgence 
she  must  naturally  feel  toward  him  under  the 
circumstances. 

Some  people  have  the  faculty  of  making  us 
feel  grateful  to  them  for  permitting  us  to  serve 
them.  Vivian  had  it.  Amanda  was  so  de 
lighted  to  see  him  recovering  that  she  almost 
felt  like  thanking  him  for  it.  Perhaps  one 
reason  for  this  humility  was  that  she  had  not 
been  free  throughout  his  illness  from  the  sting 
of  self-reproach.  Outwardly  she  had  ignored 
Jane  Thomas'  bitter  charge  that  her  violent 
conduct  had  indirectly  caused  Vivian's  acci 
dent.  But  in  secret  her  conscience  had  taken 
her  to  task  again  and  again  for  her  severity 
toward  him.  If  it  had  led  to  this  she  felt  that 
blame  should  rightly  fall  upon  her. 

No  faculty  of  our  nature  brings  to  us  keener 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  j4I 

suffering  than  our  sense  of  justice.  Suppressed, 
it  cries  out  continually ;  exercised,  it  leads  to 
acts  too  positive  to  be  endured  in  retrospect ; 
and  this  relenting  of  a  strong  nature,  this  going 
back  upon  itself  and  its  principles,  is  a  com 
mon  occurrence  in  daily  life. 

Great  risk  attends  such  changes  of  mental 
attitude,  for  character  is  built  upon  a  belief 
in  the  correctness  of  our  own  judgment.  If 
we  ever  come  to  a  point  where  it  appears  prob 
able  that  everything  we  have  held  to  and  be 
lieved  in  is  a  mistake,  God  help  us ! 

Now,  the  strong  point  in  Amanda's  char 
acter  was  her  unflinching  uprightness.  She 
had  always  dared  tell  the  truth  to  herself, 
using  no  palliations.  And  in  this  way  she  felt 
certain  of  her  ground.  But  now,  for  the  first 
time,  the  demon  of  self-distrust  had  entered 
into  her  mind,  and  all  her  ideas  and  opinions 
became  affected  by  it. 

If  she  had  been  to  blame  in  her  attitude 
toward  Vivian,  how  far  was  she  to  blame?  In 
what  respect  was  she  right?  Poor  Amanda 


1 42  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  K  TS. 

was  now  in  a  condition  where  Jane  Thomas' 
stinging  remarks  could  cause  her  discomfort. 
Strangely  enough,  her  greatest  consolation 
was  in  the  attachment  Miss  Evy  had  formed 
for  her. 

"  I  don't  know  how  I  could  ever  have  let 
myself  think  of  you  as  I  used  to  to  think,  Mrs. 
Thomas,"  the  gentle  spinster  had  said  once, 
when  they  were  upon  confidential  terms.  "  I'm 
shore  you're  anything  but  unfeeling." 

"Am  I  called  that?"  Amanda  asked,  not 
without  a  pang.  She  was  no  longer  above 
caring  what  people  said  about  her. 

"  Well,  you  know  some  people  must  have 
something  to  say  about  everybody,"  Miss  Evy 
said,  apologetically.  "  But  since  I  know  you, 
why,  I  think  you're  real  good ;  even  good 
enough  for  Mr.  Thomas." 

Amanda  looked  at  her  when  she  said  that. 
Something  occurred  to  her  that  she  had  heard 
a  long  time  ago  and  forgotten. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said,  quite  gently,  and 
turned  away. 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  143 

Miss  Evy's  hospitality  had  not  been  worn 
out  by  the  severe  test  made  of  it.  As  a  con 
valescent  Vivian  had  been  endearing  to  the 
last  degree.  It  was  congenial  to  him  to  be 
waited  upon,  and  the  one  severe  and  immiti 
gable  suffering  incidental  to  his  illness  (and 
for  which  he  secretly  promised  himself  royal 
amends)  was  almost  made  up  for  by  the  knowl 
edge  that  he  had  at  last  discovered  Amanda's 
weak  point,  and  could  hereafter,  at  least  in  a 
measure,  hold  his  own.  Vivian  did  not  put 
it  just  this  way  to  himself.  He  had  as  great  a 
genius  for  embroidering  facts  as  Amanda  had 
for  truth.  What  he  said  was  that  he  was  glad 
to  find  that  his  wife  was  fond  of  him,  after  all. 
And  in  a  beautiful  spirit  he  forgave  her,  and 
took  her  to  his  heart. 

This  is  what  Fauquier  County  understood. 
But  it  did  not  forgive  Amanda. 

A  year  later  the  county  might  have  forgiven 
her,  if  she  had  borne  the  misfortune  that  came 
to  her  more  meekly.  But  revolutions  of  char 
acter  are  seldom  permanent,  and  Amanda,  after 


144  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

compromising  with  her  own  judgment  because 
it  found  her  consistently  severe,  entered  into 
that  debatable  territory  where  we  are  swayed 
alternately  by  a  desire  to  be  gentle  and  an  im 
pulse  to  be  sharp. 

"I  don't  mean  to  reproach  ye,  honey,"  her 
mother  said,  one  day  when  Amanda  was  spend 
ing  the  day  with  her  ;  "  but  somehow,  yo'  tem 
per  ain't  so  even  as  it  used  to  be.  You  wuz 
always  high — wantin'  things  yo'  own  way.  It 
ain't  so  much  that  now.  But  you's  mo'  easy 
upset  than  you  used  to  be." 

Amanda  turned  her  dark  eyes  upon  her 
mother.  They  were  beautiful  still.  But  that 
crisis  of  a  woman's  life  when  her  beauty  begins 
to  fade  had  come  to  her  early. 

Upon  her  lap  lay  a  three  months'  old  baby. 
It  had  a  look  of  vigor,  and  a  certain  weird 
beauty  about  its  little  face ;  but  not  for  an 
instant  during  her  almost  passionate  care  of 
it  had  Amanda  been  able  to  forget  something 
that  the  flowing  robes  concealed  from  casual 
glances.  The  child  was  hopelessly  deformed, 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  145 

"Yes,  dearie,  I  know,"  said  Mrs.  Powell, 
her  gaze  following  Amanda's  as  it  was  bent 
upon  the  sleeping  infant.  "  I  know  it's  a  trial. 
And  I'm  ashamed  I  said  anything.  Nobody 
need  t'  wonder  at  yo'  bein'  a  mite  out  o'  gear. 
But  trust  the  good  Laud,  Mandy,  and  He'll 
bring  everything  out  right,  yit." 

"  Will  He  straighten  baby's  back,  do  you 
think,  mother?  Or  do  you  mean  that  He  will 
make  things  right  by  letting  it  die  ?  " 

Mrs.  Powell's  color  arose,  and  she  did  not 
venture  to  reply.  Could  any  one  but  a  mother 
wish  the  child  to  live  ? 

"  He  will  not  die,"  said  Amanda,  laying  her 
hand  softly  on  the  baby's  thick  golden  hair. 
There  was  intense  feeling  in  the  low  tone,  but 
with  her  next  words  her  voice  took  on  a  hard 
quality  that  Mrs.  Powell  had  learned  to  asso 
ciate  with  acute  distress.  "  He  will  live,"  she 
cried,  but  not  loudly ;  "  live  to  reproach  his 
father  for  a  sin  so  dark  that  no  one  can  name 
it.  Aye,  we  must  hush  it  up.  This  is  a  '  visi 
tation  of  Providence,'  in  the  opinion  of  our 
10 


146  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

good  friends.  Well,  I  don't  call  it  that.  The 
truth  is  that  it's  a  visitation  of  liquor,  of " 

"  Hush,  hush,  Mandy  !  " 

"  Excuse  my  lack  of  delicacy,"  said  Amanda, 
with  biting  scorn.  Not  scorn  of  her  mother, 
but  of  the  idea  of  the  county  as  reflected  in 
her  mother.  She  leaned  back  and  drew  a 
fleecy  white  shawl  carefully  over  the  baby's 
shoulders,  then  resumed  sadly  : 

"  I  could  stand  it  better,  if  I  was  free  from 
blame  in  my  own  eyes.  I  tell  you,  mother, 
the  only  real  hell  is  in  knowing  you're  wrong, 
and  feeling,  to  the  bottom  of  your  heart  that 
you've  brought  suffering  upon  others  by  being 
wrong." 

"  My  dear  child,"  quavered  good  Mrs.  Powell, 
"  you's  morbid.  Yo'  notion  ain't  the  right 
notion  at  all.  How  could  you  ahelped  the 
pore  child's  bein'  so  ?  " 

"  By  standing  to  my  colors.  By  obeying 
my  own  conscience,  no  matter  what  the  world 
said." 

"  Mandy,  yo'  own  sense  must  tell  you't  you 


THE  WIFE  OF  LOTHARIO.  147 

couldn't  ahelped  it,  noway.  Even  if  you'd 
kept  on  thinkin'  's  you  done.  It  wuz  took 
out'n  yo'  hands.  You  done  yo'  duty  in  stayin' 
by  Vivian  when  he  wuz  laid  low,  an'  nobody 
kin  do  mo'n  their  duty." 

"  It  was  my  duty  to  nurse  him.  And  after 
that — after  he  was  well,  I  should  have — gone." 

"  Now,  I  reely  thought  you  got  fond  o'  Viv 
ian,  an'  I  wuz  thankin'  the  Laud  for  it." 

"  Oh,  women  are  mostly  fools,"  answered 
Amanda,  sweepingly.  "  But  don't  thank  the 
Lord  for  it,  mother.  The  fruits  of  folly  are 
more  bitter  than  the  fruits  of  wilful  sins,  I 
think." 

"  Mandy,"  said  Mrs.  Powell,  rising  in  all  the 
might  of  her  sensible,  hearty,  well-balanced 
nature  ;  "  it  won't  do  to  be  furever  dwellin' 
'pon  what  we've  failed  to  do,  an'  what  we  ought 
to  adone.  This  world  ain't  heaven,  and  we's 
right  to  rejoice  with  tremblin' ;  but  there's  a 
sayin'  I  want  to  recommend  to  yo'  pore,  worn 
heart :  '  Again  I  say  unto  ye,  rejoice.'  That's 
it,  honey.  Stop  worryin'  an'  frettin'  an'  leave 


148  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

things  you  can't  alter  if  you  wuz  to  kill  yo'self 
tryin'. 

"  An'  now  I'm  agoin'  to  hev  Liza  make  a 
co'n  pudden'  an'  whip  up  cream  fur  the  peaches, 
an'  you  must  please  me  by  puttin'  away  every 
thing  else  an'  givin'  yo'  mind  to  enjoyin'  a 
right  good  dinner.  Thar's  miseries  in  the 
world,  to  be  shore,  but  thar's  comfort  too,  an' 
to  my  thinkin'  it's  mighty  good  common  sense 
to  take  our  fill  o'  creature  comforts  as  we  go 
along,  fur  we's  only  got  a  certain  length  o' 
time  to  stay  'pon  this  'arth,  an'  we  might  as 
well  make  the  best  on  it." 

"  There  are  some  things  that  have  no  best 
side,"  said  Amanda ;  but  she  said  it  rather 
faintly.  After  all,  there  was  logic  in  what  her 
mother  expressed.  She  knew  that  nothing  in 
the  world  now  could  alter  her  opinion  of  Viv 
ian  ;  nothing  should  ever  again  alter  her 
attitude  toward  him.  But  was  there  any 
comfort  or  happiness  to  be  got  out  of  life 
still  ? 

Mrs.  Powell  had  left  the  room,  after  pressing 


THE   WIfE  OP  LOTHARIO.  149 

a  kiss  upon  her  daughter's  cheek,  and  another 
upon  the  hair  of  the  sleeping  baby. 

Through  the  window  came  the  sound  of 
Nellie's  voice,  exclaiming  to  her  little  colored 
playmates  in  vivacious  accents  :  "  There's  papa 
coming !  Grandma  said  he  was  coming  to 
dinner ;  "  and  in  another  moment  she  skipped 
into  the  room  with  her  hand  in  that  of  the 
fine-looking  man  who  appeared  before  his  wife 
hat  in  hand,  wearing  a  gentle,  deprecating  smile. 

Amanda  arose  quickly,  pressing  her  baby  to 
her  breast,  and  stood  looking  at  him  with  fire 
in  her  eyes.  Am  I  never  to  be  safe  from  your 
intrusion?  her  look  said.  But  her  lips  were 
mute,  and  with  a  lately  learned  self-control  she 
remained  silent,  while  he  filled  in  the  embarrass 
ing  moment  with  the  graceful,  fluent  phrases 
ever  at  his  command. 

"  What  a  magnificent  woman  she  is,"  thought 
Vivian,  as  he  threw  himself  into  a  chair,  and 
began  to  entertain  little  Nellie  with  some  funny 
anecdote,  intensely  conscious  all  the  while  of 
the  stately,  stern  presence  that  ignored  him. 


150  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

Suddenly  her  gown  brushed  his  knees  as  she 
passed  him  on  her  way  to  the  door,  and  he 
glanced  up  rather  uneasily. 

"  I'm  only  going  to  lay  baby  on  the  bed," 
she  said  in  a  low  tone,  not  without  the  trace 
of  contempt  she  could  never  nowadays  keep 
out  of  her  voice  when  speaking  to  him.  But 
in  the  other  room,  while  she  was  bending  over 
her  little  one,  there  came  to  her  one  of  those 
humorous  suggestions  that  visit  us  now  and 
then,  to  lighten  our  periods  of  depression. 

"  Man  is,  after  all,  only  a  kind  of  stomach, 
and  friendship  but  an  eating  together."  The 
sentence  was  from  Carlyle,  perhaps  ;  anyway, 
it  was  applicable  to  the  situation.  What  was 
the  use  of  making  such  a  serious  affair  out  "of 
living  ? 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  is  easy  enough  to  be  upon 
friendly  terms  '  if  friendship  is  but  an  eating 
together,'  "  Amanda  said  to  herself,  grimly. 

Half  an  hour  later  Mrs.  Powell,  sitting, 
flushed  and  anxious  at  the  head  of  her  hos 
pitable  table,  rejoiced  at  the  amenities  that 


THE  WIPE  OF  LOTHARIO.  151 

passed  between  her  two  guests,  and  whispered 
to  her  own  heart  that  everything  was  coming 
out  right,  in  the  end.  And  to  this  determined 
optimism  Amanda,  who  interpreted  her  moth 
er's  beaming  looks  perfectly,  made  no  sign  of 
dissent.  But  Vivian,  even  with  his  facile  ac 
ceptance  of  all  things  in  his  favor,  could  not 
help  but  realize  to-day,  very  strongly,  that 
Amanda  would  never  be  to  him,  so  long  as  she 
lived,  anything  but  an  icicle.  With  her  temper", 
it  might  have  been  worse  than  that. 


PETER   WEAVER 


PETER  WEAVERS 


I. 

SNEAKING  CREEK  CHURCH  had  an  unusu 
ally  full  attendance  on  the  Sunday  morning 
that  saw  Miles  Armstrong's  first  wrestle  with 
his  Satanic  majesty,  in  the  interests  of  that 
congregation. 

He  was  a  well-grown  boy  of  twenty,  or  so, 
with  the  look  of  an  eager  colt  scenting  its  first 
honors  in  the  wind,  and  determined  to  strain 
every  nerve  to  come  in  ahead  at  the  finish.  The 
bright,  brown  eye,  large  and  deep,  turning  here 
and  there  with  a  half-timid,  half-bold  gaze, 
the  quivering  nostril  and  tossing  chestnut 
mane  over  his  long  head  gave  him  a  likeness 
to  a  high-bred  horse,  scarcely  broken  yet,  and 
destined  to  kick  the  traces  somewhat  before 
settling  down  to  a  steady  pace. 

1  Copyright,  1900,  by  the  F.  M.  Lupton  Publishing  Co. 

155 


156  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

The  accommodations  offered  by  the  Second 
Baptist  Church  to  its  preachers  were  not  luxu 
rious.  A  straight-backed  cane  chair,  and  a 
small  square  table  holding  a  bible  and  a  pitcher 
of  water  were  the  creature  comforts  that  stole 
gently  upon  the  senses  of  young  Armstrong 
after  his  ten-mile  gallop  over  Fauquier  County 
roads  that  morning. 

Nothing  cared  he  for  creature  comforts. 
Nothing  either,  for  the  fact  that  the  congre 
gation  facing  him  was  composed  of  Fauquier 
County's  choicest  and  best  in  the  line  of  heredi 
tary  sinners ;  clothed  in  fine  raiment  and  con 
scious  of  waiting  carriages  and  servants  outside, 
and  of  choice  viands  upon  solid  silver  dishes  at 
the  end  of  their  journey  homeward  after  they 
had  listened  to  the  sermon.  To  him  all  these 
personages,  in  rustling  silks  and  fine  broadcloth, 
all  these  Haywoods,  and  Gordons,  and  Dudleys 
were  so  many  sick  souls,  needing  the  cordial 
of  the  true  gospel ;  so  many  criminally  blind 
beings  with  feet  turned  toward  destruction, 
careless  of  the  light  and  life  they  might  have 


PETER   WEAVER.  157 

by  an  effort  that,  to  him,  in  his  young  zeal, 
seemed  so  simple  and  slight  ;  to  them,  per 
haps,  involving  sacrifices  beyond  his  experience 
and  power  to  imagine. 

Immediately  in  front  of  the  platform  stood 
the  organ,  and  seated  bolt  upright  before  this 
was  Miss  Lavinia  Powell,  in  a  green  silk  waist 
with  skin-tight  sleeves  that  prevented  her  rais 
ing  her  arms  to  her  head  to  twist  up  the  wisp 
of  gray  hair  straggling  from  her  door-knob 
coiffeur,  and  which  consequently  held  the  un 
easy  attention  of  a  nervous  woman  in  her  rear 
all  church  time.  Had  the  hair  belonged  to 
anybody  else  than  Miss  Lavinia  Powell,  the 
neighbor  would  have  ventured  to  reach  over 
and  adjust  it.  But  no  one  ever  performed  famil 
iar  offices  for  Miss  Powell.  She  was  the  quin 
tessence  of  spinsterhood,  and  her  weapons  of 
defense  were  two  gray  eyes  like  a  ferret's ;  of 
offense — a  tongue  unparalleled  for  point. 

Two-thirds  of  the  people  were  wondering 
what  Miss  Lavinia  thought  of  the  new  preacher. 
He  was  not  yet  permanently  engaged.  Under- 


158  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

neath  all  his  concentrated  purpose  to  utter 
telling  truths  this  morning,  lurked  the  conscious 
ness  that  he  was  on  probation.  He  felt,  even 
though  it  was  impossible  that  he  could  have 
heard  the  whisper  that  was  running  around  the 
church  while  he  gave  out  the  first  hymn.  It 
began  in  the  pew  occupied  by  a  couple  of  girls 
who  were  visiting  old  Mrs.  Powell,  who  sat  with 
her  sweet,  serene  face  turned  toward  the  young 
preacher  with  a  look  of  beautifully  blended 
respect  and  benevolence.  She  heard  none  of 
the  gossip  carried  on  by  her  nieces. 

"Is  he  ordained?" 

"  No,  indeed.     Not  a  minister  at  all  yet." 

"  He's  experienced  sanctification,  though." 

"  You  don't  say  so  !  " 

"  Yes,  but  he  fell  from  grace,  they  say.  Per 
haps  that's  why  he  looks  so  melancholy." 

"  Do  you  think  he  looks  melancholy  ?  To 
me  he  just  looks  earnest.  He's  got  splendid 
eyes,  but  they're  awfully  deep.  I'd  be  proud 
of  a  man  with  eyes  like  that,  wouldn't 
you  ?  " 


PE  TER  WE  A  VER.  1 59 

A  smothered  giggle,  and  a  murmur  to  a 
friend  in  the  next  pew. 

"Do  you  believe  in  sanctification ?  The 
preacher's  experienced  it." 

Nellie  Thomas  heard  the  last  remark,  and 
from  that  moment  her  reverential  gaze  was 
fixed  upon  the  thin,  earnest  face  of  the  youth 
ful  preacher.  Her  heart  bowed  before  the 
spiritual  power  abiding  in  him.  She  received 
the  sermon  as  a  divine  message,  humbly  re 
sponsive  to  the  persuasive  words  that  sought 
to  arouse  a  conviction  of  sin  in  all  hearers. 

"  We  are  all  of  us  in  the  mire  of  sin,"  ut 
tered  the  clear  young  voice  in  solemn  accents. 
"  Every  one  of  us  should  take  shame  to  him 
self  for  his  sins.  You  that  wear  elegant  clothes 
and  live  in  great  houses  are  no  better  than  the 
beggar — the  tramp — that  goes  from  one  back 
door  to  another — in  the  matter  of  sin.  The 
back  door  of  the  Father's  house  is  the  door 
we'll  have  to  go  to  when  we  want  to  enter  into 
heaven.  If  you  are  proud  and  lofty-minded, 
and  think  yourself  good  enough  to  be  admitted 


1 60  SO  UTHEKN  HEA  R  TS. 

at  the  front  door  it  is  all  the  more  certain  that 
you'll  be  turned  away  and  made  to  go  around 
to  the  back  entrance,  and  made  to  wait  there 
knocking  a  long  time  before  you  are  let  in. 
And  good  enough  for  you,  too.  Are  any  one 
of  us  fit  to  enter  into  the  presence  of  the  Lord  ? 
If  any  one  of  us  thinks  so  he  ought  to  take 
shame  to  himself  for  the  notion.  If  I  had  such 
a  false  notion  in  my  own  head  I'd  take  shame 
to  myself  for  it." 

The  sermon  went  on,  the  emphatic  voice  fall 
ing  at  the  end  of  every  sentence  as  if  the  speaker 
had  the  intent  to  drive  home  his  argument  by 
verbal  knocks.  The  respectable  audience  was 
browbeaten  and  held  up  to  ridicule  for  its  pre 
tensions  to  virtue  ;  it  was  proved  conclusively 
that  not  a  hope  of  salvation  could  be  reason 
ably  cherished  by  a  single  person  present. 
Proved  to  the  general  mind.  A  few  persons 
remained  in  doubt,  and  one — a  man  seated  with 
folded  arms  in  the  middle  of  the  church — con 
tinued  utterly  skeptical.  He  had  attended 
closely  to  the  sermon,  his  broad,  ruddy  face 


PETER   WEAVER.  161 

expressing  throughout  a  kindly  sympathy  with 
the  preacher,  curiously  mingled  with  concern. 
Now  and  then  he  had  allowed  a  great  sigh  to 
escape  him.  and  once  he  moved  restlessly  as  if 
impelled  to  utter  a  protest.  But  he  mastered 
the  impulse  and  kept  quiet  until  the  final  word 
was  said,  and  the  preacher  in  an  agitated  voice 
gave  out  the  last  hymn.  All  the  hymns  had 
been  mournful.  This  was  brighter.  Perhaps 
the  congregation  embraced  the  opportunity  for 
a  change  of  mood,  for  the  hymn  swelled  out 
with  unwonted  vigor,  nearly  every  one  falling 
in  with  the  second  stanza. 

A  powerful  bass  voice  projected  itself  from 
the  lungs  of  the  good-humored-looking  skeptic. 
Throwing  back  his  head  he  roared  forth  a 
melodious  bellow  that  drowned  all  other  indi 
vidual  accents — save  one.  Nellie  Thomas' 
bird-like  tones  thrilled  their  roundelay  of  wor 
ship  with  the  silvery  clearness  of  the  skylark. 
With  the  freshness  and  innocence  of  some  lark 
reared  on  the  top  bough  of  a  giant  tree,  high 

above  the  strife  and  guilt  of  the  world.     The 
ii 


162  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

throb  of  feeling  in  the  tones  came  from  the 
same  source  that  a  child's  emotions  of  worship 
come  from ;  an  awed  sense  of  personal  in 
feriority  to  some  element  of  perfection  dwell 
ing  somewhere  in  the  universe,  and  approached 
on  timid  wings  of  faith.  Unconscious  of  self, 
her  sweet  voice  brightened  and  strengthened 
until  the  mass  of  sound  outside  seemed  but  a 
great  accompaniment,  the  mighty  single  bass 
bearing  her  up  as  if  it  held  her  aloft  in  its  arms. 
This  was  what  Peter  Weaver  came  to  church 
for.  Singing  devotional  songs  with  little  Nellie 
was  the  crown  and  cap-sheaf  of  the  week's 
silent,  unrecognized  worship  that  was  carried 
on  with  the  generous  abandonment  of  a  mind 
seeking  no  reward  beyond  the  privilege  of 
devoting  itself  to  its  cherished  object.  The 
simple,  brave  soul  lodged  in  Peter's  huge  frame 
joyed  in  surrounding  the  young  girl  with  a  pro 
tecting  fondness  that  was  like  an  invisible  shield 
interposed  between  her  and  harm.  He  had 
never  cared  for  any  other  girl,  and  he  had  cared 
for  her  ever  since  she — a  radiant  maid  of  six 


PETER  WEAVER.  163 

years  in  a  pink  lawn  frock  and  white  sunbonnet 
— entered  the  old  school-house  door  one  morn 
ing  twelve  years  before,  and  transformed  the 
loutish  boy  puzzling  over  sums,  into  a  poet  and 
a  knight-errant,  bound  forever  to  her  service. 
During  all  these  years  that  he  had  carried  her 
school-books,  gathered  wild-flowers  for  her  from 
dangerous  mountain  crevasses,  and  catered  to 
"her  gentle  whims  in  every  way  a  man  might, 
who  bore  her  continually  in  his  heart  and 
studied  how  best  to  give  her  pleasure,  Peter 
had  never  broken  in  upon  this  friendship  by  a 
word  of  the  sentiment  of  which  his  poet-soul 
was  full.  Nellie,  called  by  her  admirers  the 
beauty  of  Virginia,  was  to  him  the  living  em 
bodiment  of  the  sweet-briar  rose,  too  delicate, 
too  sensitive  to  be  plucked  and  worn,  even  by 
one  worthy  of  that  distinction.  Himself,  he 
thought  scarce  worthy  to  tie  her  little  shoe. 

And  yet,  except  in  contrast  with  this  Dresden 
china  creature,  with  her  skin  of  milk  and  roses, 
her  golden  brown  eyes  so  soft  and  shy,  and  her 
cloud  of  sunny  curls,  fine  as  floss,  the  modest 


1 6 4  -SO UTHERN  HEAR  TS. 

farmer-poet,  tied  by  circumstances  to  homely 
tasks,  was  not  a  man  to  be  despised.  His 
height,  which  was  six  feet  two  inches,  was  sus 
tained  by  good  breadth  of  shoulder  and  shape 
liness  of  limb.  His  round  head,  covered  with 
short,  crisp,  black  locks,  was  well  set,  and  his 
pleasant  eyes,  of  an  opaque  blue  like  the  hue 
of  old  Dutch  pottery,  looked  out  at  you  with  a 
frank  and  honest  expression.  There  was  too 
much  color  in  his  cheek,  but  it  was  a  clear, 
bright  red,  showing  healthy  blood  beneath,  as 
free  from  venom  as  his  nature.  He  was  now 
thirty-two  years  old,  and  his  philosophical 
temperament,  not  wanting  in  capacity  for  deep 
thinking,  made  his  years  set  lightly  upon  him. 
He  was  still  rather  a  great  boy  than  a  mature 
man,  in  the  opinion  of  most  people,  and  per 
haps  of  all  the  men  and  women  in  Fauquier 
County  who  knew  and  liked  Peter  Weaver,  but 
one  person  recognized  and  appreciated  the 
sound,  sane  mind,  the  capacity  for  heroic  ac 
tion  that  lay  beneath  his  eccentricities  and 
commonplace,  almost  awkward  bearing.  This 


PETER   WEAVER.  165 

friend  was  Amanda  Thomas,  the  widowed  mis 
tress  of  Benvenew,  called  Mistress  Amanda,  to 
distinguish  her  from  old  widow  Thomas,  her 
mother-in-law. 

Mistress  Amanda's  strong  character  rather 
than  any  external  advantages  had  made  her  an 
important  personage  in  .the  county.  Her  kins 
folk,  the  Powells,  were  impoverished,  and  her 
husband,  the  bright  particular  star  of  the  sport 
ing  set,  had  left  her  an  affectionate  legacy  of 
debts,  together  with  an  invalid  child  whose 
malady  set  him  apart  from  the  working  world 
and  enshrined  him  in  his  mother's  heart  as 
something  to  be  tenderly  cherished  at  any  cost 
to  herself  or  others.  This  boy  was  never  seen 
out  of  his  home,  and  people  whispered  dark 
stories  of  his  strange  and  dangerous  moods, 
in  which  no  one  could  do  anything  with  him 
save  Peter  Weaver. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  Peter  Weaver,  whose 
oddities  were  not  upheld  by  an  ancient  Virginia 
family  name,  was,  nevertheless,  welcomed  as  a 
favorite  guest  at  Benvenew,  where  many  a  proud 


166  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

youngster  hung  about,  thinking  himself  re 
warded  for  hours  of  patient  homage  to  the 
stately  mistress,  by  a  glimpse  of  shy  Nellie.  He 
and  Mistress  Amanda  had  come  to  that  com 
plete  understanding  when  a  glance  interchanged 
means  a  whole  volume  of  explanation.  It  was 
natural  for  this  glance  to  be  interchanged  when 
they  differed  from  prevailing  opinions. 

Therefore,  it  was  this  great  lady's  gaze  that 
caught  and  held  the  doubtful  look  that  Peter 
threw  toward  the  preacher  while  the  final  ar 
gument  was  being  made  as  to  the  absolute 
necessity  for  all  of  them  to  be  bowed  down  in 
humiliation  over  their  sins.  Some  rapid  ques 
tion  and  answer  seemed  to  pass  between  the 
two  that  left  Peter  satisfied.  He  threw  him 
self  into  the  singing  with  more  than  common 
zeal,  and  when  the  moment  came  for  a  general 
relaxing  from  the  stiffness  of  sermon-tide  he 
walked  out  of  his  pew  and  up  toward  the  front 
with  a  fixed  purpose  plainly  written  upon  his 
face. 

The   youthful  preacher   had  stepped   down 


PETER  WEAVER.  167 

from  the  platform,  and  with  the  step  he  seemed 
to  become  another  man.  All  the  severity  had 
vanished  both  from  countenance  and  manner. 
Bright,  kind,  with  a  suppressed  liveliness  that 
became  in  the  passage  from  heart  to  tongue 
cheerful  and  witty  response  to  the  pleasant 
clamor  around  him,  he  was  like  a  man  who  had 
thrown  off  the  weight  of  a  heavy  responsibility, 
and  got  back  home  again.  But  outward  trans 
formations  are  not  to  be  taken  as  signs  of  deep 
internal  changes.  The  man  wno  laughs  at  your 
dinner  table  is  the  same  man  who  refused  to 
abate  his  stern  judgment  against  your  brother 
yesterday.  He  is  not  to  be  played  with  be 
cause  he  chooses  to  be  humorous. 

Peter  Weaver  was  now  standing  beside  the 
preacher.  Mistress  Amanda  introduced  them, 
and  then  turned  so  that  her  voluminous 
draperies  made  a  barrier  between  the  two  men 
and  the  groups  behind. 

Young  Armstrong's  slim  hand  yielded  a  ready 
clasp  to  the  mighty  grip  of  the  farmer-poet, 
who  was  anxious  to  express  in  this  greeting 


1 68  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

more  than  usual  good-will  and  interest.  To 
balance  what  he  had  made  up  his  mind  it  was 
his  duty  to  say. 

"  I'm  shore  them  that  have  a  better  right  than 
me  to  express  an  opinion  have  thanked  you 
for  your  sermon,"  said  Peter.  Always  slow,  his 
speech  was  now  even  ponderous,  through  anx 
iety  to  find  appropriate  words.  Some  of  his 
thickness  of  his  Dutch  grandfather's  tongue 
had  descended  to  him,  along  with  a  short 
sighted  and  earnest  devotion  to  duty. 

Armstrong  answered  by  some  light  word, 
divining,  by  that  super-sensitiveness  of  the 
young  enthusiast,  that  a  criticism  was  in  the  air. 
He  looked  up  at  the  honest  red  face  half  a  head 
higher  than  his  own  pale  one,  with  a  little  curi 
osity.  Peter's  kindliness  was  so  vast  that  he  felt 
like  a  school-boy  being  forgiven  by  the  professor 
of  moral  philosophy.  A  strange  feeling  for  an 
expounder  of  the  sacred  word  to  experience 
in  the  presence  of  an  apparently  commonplace 
man. 

"  It  was  a   good    sermon,"    Peter  went  on ; 


PETER  WEAVER.  169 

"  that  is,  good  because  there  was  an  honest 
purpose  in  it.  But  I  don't  agree  with  you,  sir." 

"  Don't  you  ? "  retorted  the  preacher,  smil 
ing.  He  was  not  displeased  that  his  first  ser 
mon  contained  stuff  for  argument. 

"  You  see,  your  point  of  view  is  the  point  of 
view  of  a  well-meaning  but  inexperienced  young 
man.  The  world  isn't  near  as  bad  as  you  made 
it  out.  There's  a  lot  of  good  in  human  nature, 
and  you'll  find  it  out  after  awhile.  I'm  not 
afraid  but  what  you'll  find  it  out.  But  I'd  be 
sorry  to  have  you  go  on  saying  all  these  hard 
things  that  don't  do  any  good.  The  only  way  to 
make  people  better  is  to  take  hold  of  some  good 
thing  about  'em  and  build  on  it.  The  world 
wants  to  be  encouraged,  not  discouraged,  sir  !  " 

Armstrong  felt  now  like  a  boy  in  the  infant 
class  being  lectured  by  the  Sabbath-school 
superintendent.  His  white  teeth  closed  down 
over  his  lower  lip.  It  galled  him  to  have  to 
look  up  to  meet  the  eyes  of  this  singular  in 
dividual.  But  he  rallied  himself  gallantly. 

"  Oh,  I  think  very  well  of  human  nature," 


1 70  SOUTHERN  HEAR  TS. 

he  said,  in  his  strong,  clear  tones.  "  But  you 
know  we  must  not  look  at  things  from  that 
standpoint.  Anything  short  of  perfection  is 
rottenness  in  the  eyes  of  God.  And  who 
among  us  is  anywhere  near  perfect  ?  " 

"  Still,  the  world  wants  encouraging,"  re 
peated  Peter. 

It  was  the  idea  he  had  intended  to  emphasize. 
He  wished  that  this  fine  young  man  and  himself 
were  seated  on  the  porch  of  his  little  green  cot 
tage,  with  a  pipe  apiece,  and  the  afternoon  be 
fore  them  to  talk  the  matter  out.  But  nearly 
everybody  had  left  the  church.  Only  half  a 
dozen  or  so  lingered  to  exchange  a  word  with 
the  preacher.  Courteous  Peter  felt  that  he  had 
been  to  the  fore  long  enough.  He  extended 
his  hand  again,  and  gave  Armstrong's  a  cordial 
grip. 

"  Your  face  contradicts  your  preaching,"  he 
concluded,  backing  away  reluctantly.  "  You'll 
not  be  so  severe  when  you  let  yourself  be  as 
much  in  sympathy  with  people  as  nature  meant 
you  to  be  !  " 


PETER  WEAVER.  171 

He  bowed  in  his  ungainly  fashion,  and 
walked  on  out.  Armstrong's  attention  was 
immediately  engaged  by  Mistress  Amanda, 
who  invited  him  to  go  home  with  her  to  din 
ner.  She  had  listened  with  keen  interest  to  the 
little  exchange  of  views  between  the  preacher 
and  Peter.  Her  sympathy  was  with  Peter. 
She  had  less  toleration  than  he  for  the  intoler 
ance  of  others.  There  is  no  bigotry  like  the 
bigotry  of  an  egoistic  mind  that  thinks  itself 
liberal;  and  Mistress  Amanda  felt  an  impatient 
contempt  for  the  hard  and  fast  Calvinism  of 
the  preacher.  But  personal  preferences  were 
not  allowed  to  stand  in  the  way  of  hospitality. 
The  preacher  was  pressed  to  come  to  Benvenew 
and  stay  over  until  Monday,  when  he  could 
ride  back  to  Roselawn,  the  Armstrong  dwell 
ing,  in  the  cool  air  of  the  morning. 

Other  persons  had  felt  a  sense  of  their  hos 
pitable  duties.  In  fact,  Armstrong  was  half 
engaged  to  go  to  the  Gordons.  He  was  turn 
ing  his  gracefully  uttered  thanks  into  a  refusal, 
when  Mistress  Amanda  moved  toward  the  pew 


172  so  UTHERN  HE  A  R  rs. 

on  her  left  to  pick  up  her  fan,  and  in  so  doing 
gave  him  a  glimpse  of  Nellie,  who  had  kept 
modestly  behind  her  mother  all  this  time. 
Mistress  Amanda  was  tall ;  Nellie  was  short 
and  slim ;  a  sylph,  a  dainty  fairy  figure,  over 
whose  face  played  the  luminous  light  of  the 
moon  as  it  is  reflected  in  water.  Her  great 
soft  eyes  dwelt  upon  him  with  pathetic  sym 
pathy.  The  brightness  of  partizanship  was 
there,  too.  A  dove  whose  heart  had  been 
moved  to  side  with  an  eagle  engaged  in  combat 
with  its  fellow  would  probably  have  looked  so. 
Nellie  felt  in  her  gentle  bosom  the  stirring  of 
vindictiveness  against  Peter's  rough  hands  that 
had  essayed  to  tear  away  the  veil  of  sanctity 
which  hung  over  the  Lord's  chosen  vessel. 
Her  ears  still  held  the  echo  of  those  strong, 
stern  words  with  which  the  preacher  had  re 
buked  sin.  She  mentally  bowed  before  them. 
She,  too,  was  a  sinner.  Oh,  that  he  might  lead 
her  into  the  light ! 

Armstrong's  eyes  had  found  her  while  these 
thoughts  were  writing  themselves  upon  her  in- 


PETER   WEAVER.  173 

nocent  face.  In  a  second  he  caught  a  breath 
of  that  incense  which  filled  the  heart  of  the 
sweetbriar  rose.  Youth,  enthusiasm,  worship 
ful  instinct  met  and  united  in  the  one  swift 
glance.  The  words  of  excuse  died  away  in 
Armstrong's  throat. 

"  Let  me  present  you  to  my  daughter, 
Nellie,"  said  Mistress  Amanda  carelessly;  hear 
ing  only  a  murmured  acceptance  of  her  in 
vitation.  The  young  girl  bent  her  head, 
the  rose  tint  deepening  in  her  cheeks.  The 
preacher  bowed  as  to  a  queen.  His  manner 
seemed  a  trifle  exaggerated  to  Mistress 
Amanda,  but  her  critical  reading  of  his  charac 
ter  was  that  he  would  probably  over-do  every 
thing. 

She  moved  toward  the  church  door  with 
him,  her  negligent  glance  taking  in  an  impres 
sion  of  a  rather  good-looking,  gentlemanly 
bigot.  Such  people  were  bores  that  good 
breeding  obliged  one  to  suffer  patiently. 

The  church  was  perfectly  quiet  by  the  time 
they  had  reached  the  door,  for  they  were  the 


174  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

last.  The  crowd  outside  compelled  them  to 
stop  for  an  instant  in  the  vestibule. 

Suddenly  there  came  to  the  ears  of  all  three 
the  sound  of  a  long,  mournful  howl,  deeper 
than  that  any  dog  could  make ;  heavy  yet 
tremulous,  as  of  something  in  great  distress. 

Peter  had  been  stayed  at  the  door — probably 
he  had  loitered  to  see  Nellie — and  he,  too, 
heard  the  sound.  His  round  eyes  widened  and 
his  mouth  opened  in  astonishment.  Without 
dying  away  completely  the  painful  bellow  was 
renewed. 

It  seemed  to  come  from  the  interior  of  the 
church. 

II. 

SOME  remarkable  epithet  rolled  from  the 
throat  of  Peter  as  he  turned  his  head  from  side 
to  side  in  a  perplexed  grasping  after  the  loca 
tion  of  this  disturbance. 

"  It  seems  to  come  from  the  basement," 
observed  Mistress  Amanda.  Peter  strode  to 
the  basement  door  and  took  hold  of  the  knob. 


PETER  WEAVER.  175 

It  was  locked  ;  an  occurrence  so  unusual  as  to 
arouse  renewed  surprise. 

There  was  now  a  renewal  of  the  sounds  ; 
a  succession  of  low,  long-drawn-out  bellows,  be 
coming  more  and  more  faint,  and  dying  away 
completely  while  the  four  listeners  stood  look 
ing  at  each  other. 

"  May  not  some  stray  cow  have  got  into  the 
basement  or  cellar  ? "  Armstrong  suggested. 
It  seemed  to  him  that  this  big  farmer  showed 
more  annoyance  than  the  occasion  demanded. 
Doubtless  the  explanation  would  prove  to  be 
very  simple.  But  he  had  not  Peter's  premises 
to  argue  from.  Mistress  Amanda  and  he  both 
knew  that  if  any  animal  was  imprisoned  be 
neath  the  church  it  must  have  been  driven  there, 
and  shut  in.  Why  should  such  a  thing  be 
done  ?  There  was  but  one  explanation.  Over 
a  week  ago  a  fine  cow  belonging  to  Peter  had 
bodily  disappeared,  without  leaving  a  trace  to 
identify  the  thief.  He  had  had  a  strong  sus 
picion  that  the  guilt  lay  at  the  door  of  his 
neighbor,  Theodore  Funkhausen,  one  of  the 


176  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

richest  men  in  the  county,  but  commonly 
called  "  Skunk."  Many  a  quarrel  had  taken 
place  between  "  Skunk  "  and  Peter  Weaver,  in 
which  the  generous  nature  had  been  the  vic 
tim.  The  last  one  dated  a  fortnight  back,  and 
was  about  Peter's  cattle.  Soon  afterward  the 
cow  had  disappeared.  Funkhauscn's  sour  vis 
age  had  worn  a  particularly  malicious  look 
lately,  when  he  and  Peter  met,  a  look  that  one 
who  knew  him  might  interpret  as  pleasure  in 
an  accomplished  act  of  vengeance. 

"  I'm  going  to  get  at  the  meaning  of  them 
noises,"  said  Peter,  with  mighty  emphasis,  and 
he  laid  violent  hands  upon  the  door  lock,  which 
was  weak  and  yielded  without  much  resistance. 
"  If  it's  as  I  think,"  he  added  calmly,  "  Thed 
Funkhausen's  going  to  have  one  thrashing!" 
He  descended  the  dark  stairway,  and  they  heard 
the  crackle  of  matches  as  he  went.  Peter's  pipe 
was  not  in  his  pocket  when  he  attended  church 
but  his  match-box  was. 

"What  does  he  mean?"  asked  Armstrong 
of  Mistress  Amanda.  The  boyish  liking  for  an 


PETER   WEAVER.  177 

adventure  and  the  instinct  of  the  southerner 
for  a  fight  struggled  in  his  breast  with  the 
severity  of  the  preacher.  He  had  a  vague  idea 
that  Peter  Weaver  was  one  of  the  unregenerate 
persons  toward  whom  one's  sympathies  must 
not  be  allowed  to  flow  incautiously.  On  the 
other  hand,  Funkhausen's  reputation  had 
reached  Roselawn.  To  the  fact  that  he  was  a 
carpet-bagger  the  true-blooded  Virginian  laid 
some  contemptible  acts  which  otherwise  would 
have  been  unaccountable.  But  there  were  per 
sons  who  found  the  rich  man  good  enough  in 
his  way,  and  he  had  a  certain  following,  was  a 
school  trustee,  member  of  the  county  jockey- 
club,  and  sure  of  a  seat  among  the  judges  at 
the  annual  fair.  Consequently,  when  he  took 
it  into  his  head  to  quarrel  the  possibility  of 
his  antagonist  being  in  the  wrong  naturally 
presented  itself  to  fair  minds. 

Armstrong  had  never  heard  of  Peter  Weaver, 
although  the  farmer-poet  was  well  known 
throughout  the  county,  and  now  that  he  had 
made  his  acquaintance  he  was  not  greatly  dis- 

12 


178  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

posed  to  admire  him.  There  was  enough  re 
sentment  in  his  mind  for  the  elder  man's  plain 
speaking  to  make  neutrality  in  a  quarrel  be 
tween  him  and  Funkhausen  appear  a  Christian 
duty.  But  he  could  not  find  fault  with  any  cir 
cumstances  that  led  to  his  standing  in  the  little 
vestibule  close  to  this  wonderfully  fair  young 
girl,  whose  spiritual  face  wore  the  far-away  look 
of  one  whose  thoughts  are  set  on  things  above 
this  earth.  Yet  Nellie  had  her  practical  side. 
In  some  things  she  was  more  practical  than  her 
mother. 

Mistress  Amanda's  commanding  bearing, 
however,  was  a  complete  contrast  to  the  young 
girl's  modest,  timid  mien.  Her  fine,  black  eyes 
rested  coldly  upon  the  young  man  who  had  put 
his  question  to  her  in  a  judicial  tone.  She 
murmured  a  few  words  that  were  no  reply,  and 
busied  herself  in  drawing  up  the  folds  of  her 
black  satin  skirt  to  sweep  out  to  her  carriage. 
Peter  was  heard  coming  up  the  steps.  He 
emerged  with  an  apoplectic  face,  breathing 
hard. 


PETER   WEAVER.  179 

"  Was  it  ?  "  asked  Mistress  Amanda. 

He  nodded.  "  Shorely,  starved  to  death — 
the  darned  skunk  !  " 

His  friend  gave  him  a  look  expressive  of  the 
wisdom  of  keeping  cool  and  waiting  for  the 
right  occasion.  It  was  something  like  throwing 
water  on  a  red-hot  stove.  But  Peter  had  un 
limited  confidence  in  the  good  sense  of  Mistress 
Amanda.  And  he  bore  in  mind  that  it  is  a 
man's  duty  not  to  show  fight  in  the  presence 
of  ladies.  So,  sighing  inwardly,  he  helped  them 
up  the  step  of  the  great  family  coach,  where 
old  Mrs.  Powell  and  her  niece  were  seated, 
waiting  ;  and,  mounting  his  horse,  rode  off  at  a 
pace  that  harmonized  with  his  feelings. 

Peter's  bulk  was  unhandsome  on  horseback. 
As  young  Armstrong  lightly  vaulted  into  his 
saddle  and  reined  his  horse  beside  the  window, 
where  Nellie's  sweet  face  peeped  out  from  be 
neath  the  shadow  of  a  flower-laden  leghorn  hat, 
she  silently  noted  the  contrast  between  the 
riders. 

"  What  kep'  you   so,  Mandy  ? "   asked    old 


l8o  SOUTHERN  ft 'EARTS 

Mrs.  Powell,  with  as  near  the  suspicion  of  a 
complaint  in  her  voice  as  ever  got  into  it. 

"  Why,  something  very  singular,  mother. 
Would  you  credit  it,  that  Funkhausen  put 
Peter  Weaver's  cow  under  the  church  and 
starved  it  to  death  !  We  heard  its  moans — 
probably  its  last  ones,  and  Peter  went  down 
and  found  it.  He  says  he'll  thrash  Funkhau 
sen,  and  I  think  everybody  in  the  county '11 
stand  by  him  if  he  does." 

"  How  perfectly  dreadful !  "  chimed  in  the 
girls,  in  thrilled  accents. 

"  Oh,  dear,  Mandy,  that  wuz  mean  indeed  of 
Funkhausen,"  said  the  grieved  old  lady.  "  And 
he  a  member  o'  the  chu'ch,  and  holdin'  to  par 
ticular  redemption,  which  he  oughtn't  to  dare 
to  do  less  he's  shore  he's  one  o'  the  elect  hisself." 

"  He'll  need  all  his  particular  redemption — 
when  Peter  gets  hold  of  him,"  commented 
Mistress  Amanda,  who  was  no  Antinomian. 
She  took  some  pleasure  in  making  remarks  like 
these,  less  to  shock  her  mother,  to  whom  she 
was  more  tenderly  deferential  than  to  any- 


PETER   WEAVER.  181 

body  else  in  the  world,  than  to  enlarge  the 
outlook  of  Nellie,  whose  innate  bent  toward 
Calvinism  irritated  her.  She  disbelieved  in  the 
possibility  of  a  woman  saint  under  sixty.  Of 
men,  she  had  been  heard  to  remark  that  they 
"  only  got  to  heaven  through  the  grace  of  God 
and  the  goodness  of  women."  But  while  she 
hated  pretensions  to  special  piety  she  readily 
pardoned  sinners  who  were  confessedly  incor 
rigible.  She  would  overlook  all  offenses  save 
self-complacency  or  the  possession  of  a  blood 
less  nature  incapable  alike  of  sterling  virtues  or 
robust  wickedness.  There  are  persons  to  whom 
the  touch  of  velvet  is  odious.  Mistress  Amanda 
detested  velvety  natures.  Some  Viking-like 
quality  in  the  woman,  something  fierce  and 
grand  as  the  breaking  of  a  storm  at  sea,  threw 
out  a  challenge  for  rough  honesty ;  for  the 
strong  hand  of  untamed  manhood  to  touch  and 
calm  her  mood.  In  Peter  Weaver  she  realized 
her  ideal  of  robust,  simple  manliness.  Twenty 
years  before  her  maiden  fancies  would  have 
passed  him  by  with  disdain.  But  there  comes 


182  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

a  period  of  life  when  a  second  set  of  desires 
replace  the  dreams  of  youth,  unlike  them  in 
every  respect,  especially  where  "  the  curse  of  a 
granted  prayer  "  has  robbed  the  dreamer  of  il 
lusions.  In  so  many  words,  Mistress  Amanda 
had  never  said  to  herself  since  she  had  been 
left  a  widow  five  years  ago, — I  like  best  the 
man  who  least  resembles  my  husband  : — but 
her  regard  involuntarily  fell  upon  everything 
in  the  shape  of  both  men  and  women,  who 
were  innocent  of  the  suavity,  the  grace,  and 
the  polished  egotism  of  the  late  Col.  Thomas. 

To  revise  one's  personal  ideals  is  sometimes 
commendable  ;  but  a  good  mother  usually  reads 
her  new  philosophy  into  the  life  of  her  daugh 
ter.  In  Mistress  Amanda's  hands  Nellie  had 
been  as  ductile  as  gold  foil,  showing  a  fragility, 
however,  that  exacted  delicate  treatment.  Here 
was  a  sweet,  affectionate,  domestic  disposition, 
without  any  of  the  deep  and  subtle  qualities 
that  had  rendered  her  own  life  stormy  ;  a 
nature  formed  to  lean  on  strength  and  create  a 
happy  home  for  a  good  man.  And  Mistress 


PETER  WEAVER  183 

Amanda  had  given  to  Peter's  shy  wooing  an 
unspoken  but  emphatic  approval.  But  the 
sleeping  beauty's  repose  was  not  yet  broken. 
Nellie's  maidenly  meditations  had  still  leave  to 
wander  where  they  listed.  But  one  little  cloud 
hung  over  the  rosy  sky  of  Mistress  Amanda's 
hopes  :  Nellie,  always  given  to  shy  musings  and 
conscientious  scruples — had  lately  shown  a 
strong  bias  toward  her  grandmother's  religious 
convictions.  Indeed,  it  often  seemed  to  Mis 
tress  Amanda,  whose  ambition  and  passion 
ately  maternal  nature  would  have  fitted  her  to 
be  the  mother  of  heroes,  that  her  daughter  be 
longed  more  to  old  lady  Powell  than  to  herself. 

A  dear,  sweet  old  lady,  with  a  heart  full  to 
overflowing  with  the  milk  of  human  kindness, 
and  yet  she  had  unconsciously  become  a  moral 
stumbling-block  to  the  one  person  whose  hap 
piness  she  was  in  every  way  most  desirous  of 
serving. 

Poor  Mistress  Amanda  had  never  found  any 
aid  from  nature  in  carrying  out  her  plans,  but 
she  was  not  the  woman  to  relinquish  one  on 


184  SO  U  THEKN  HEA  R  TS. 

that  account.  She  relied  upon  the  aid  of 
chance  to  bring  that  proof  to  Nellie  of  Peter 
Weaver's  worth,  which  would  make  her  tolerant 
of  his  rationalism. 

A  poet  and  a  skeptic  !  Only  in  the  degree 
which  made  it  necessary  for  the  solitary  man, 
thinking  out  all  things  for  himself,  and  philos 
ophizing  upon  life  with  the  sky  and  woods  for 
counselors,  to  reach  conclusions  that  he  could 
connect  with  the  way  things  had  of  turning 
out.  Calvinism  did  not  seem  to  him  to  con 
nect  with  the  law  of  duty  to  your  neighbor  as 
it  presented  itself  to  his  conception  ;  and  his 
theology  took  this  simple  formula :  bear  and 
forbear  as  long  as  you  can,  and  then  strike  good 
blows ;  leaving  alone  the  consequences. 

And  Nellie  was  a  very  mimosa  for  sensitive 
ness,  as  to  the  sin  of  differing  from  one's  spir 
itual  advisers.  Mistress  Amanda  looked  at  her 
daughter,  a  translucent  opal  set  between  those 
gilded  spurs,  her  cousins,  and  reflected  upon 
the  pains  nature  takes  to  bring  about  dishar 
mony  in  families. 


PETER  WEAVER.  185 

As  the  carriage  approached  the  gates  of 
Benvenew  two  little  darkies  raced  out  and  held 
them  wide  open,  with  a  special  grin  and  duck 
'  for  the  gentleman  on  horseback,  whose  dimes 
rolled  in  the  dust,  sped  by  the  careless,  free 
hand  of  one  who  remembered  himself  an  Arm 
strong,  forgetting  the  preacher.  But  the  set 
of  the  preacher  was  strong  in  the  man.  It  was 
apparent  at  dinner  ;  that  excellent  dinner  where 
the  golden  brown  turkey  at  one  end  of  the 
table  was  rivaled  by  the  noble  ham  at  the 
other  end,  and  where  corn-pudding,  sweet  po 
tatoes,  and  tomatoes  in  firm,  rose-red  slices, 
were  reflected  in  crystal-clear  goblets  of  cut- 
glass,  standing  sentinel-like  upon  napkins 
of  double-wove  Barnsley  damask,  white 
as  sunbleach  and  rain  water  could  make 
them. 

Armstrong  sat  at  Mistress  Amanda's  right 
hand,  with  Nellie  opposite,  her  hands  con 
stantly  busy  playing  over  the  jellies  and  entries 
set  in  front  of  her  to  serve.  Drooping  curls 
half-hid  her  face,  but  his  eyes  dived  keenly 


j86  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

into  the  cool,  sweet  depths  of  hers  when  by 
chance  she  looked  up.  And  she  had  the  pleas 
antly  fluttered  sense  of  being  watched  by  one 
curiously  sympathetic  with  her 

"  You  are  like  your  father,"  Mistress  Aman 
da  was  saying.  "  Like  what  he  was  at  your 
age.  I  met  him  once  at  a  tournament  held 
over  at  Purcellville.  A  pleasant  part  of  the 
country,  and  a  pleasant  time  we  young  people 
had  that  day." 

"  And  you  was  crowned  queen  o'  love  and 
beauty,  Mandy,"  cooed  old  Mrs.  Powell.  "  I 
see  by  your  face  though,  sir,  that  you  don't 
hold  to  these  fashions  ?  '' 

"  Should  I  hold  to  any  customs  that  encour 
age  vanity  and  display,  and  un-Christian  ri 
valry  ?  "  returned  the  young  preacher.  "  I  un 
derstand  there  is  to  be  a  tournament  held  here 
in  the  fall,  at  Rocky  Point.  I  shall  feel  it  my 
duty  to  warn  all  our  young  people  who  have 
felt  the  strivings  of  the  Spirit,  not  to  yield  to 
the  temptation." 

"  I  am  so  glad  !  "  the  fleeting  cry  came  from 


PETER  WEAVER.  187 

Nellie  involuntarily,  and  when  Armstrong  cov 
ered  her  flushing  face  with  a  soft  look  of  en 
couragement,  she  continued  sedately  : 

"  I  think  such  things  take  us  too  far  away 
from  our  serious  duties  in  life." 

"  Nellie  is  passing  through  one  of  those 
phases  peculiar  to  youth,"  observed  her  mother. 
"  Attacks  of  acute  religious  fanaticism  are  a 
sort  of  moral  measles." 

-'  Madam  !  "  uttered  Armstrong  in  a  shocked 
tone,  but  meeting  that  calm  glance  of  the 
elder  woman,  secure  in  the  dignity  of  her  deeper 
life  experiences,  he  softened  his  tone  apologet 
ically  : 

"  I  beg  you  will  not  construe  my  criticism 
of  the  custom  of  tournaments  into  a  criticism 
of  yourself.  Doubtless  there  was  formerly  a 
greater  license  in  the  Church  concerning  these 
things.  Even  dancing  picnics  were  toler 
ated " 

"Why  not?"  asked  the  bold  lady.  "We 
must  have  amusements,  we  southerners.  We 
are  not  Puritans." 


T  88  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

"  Shall  the  Puritans  hold  their  faith  more 
purely  than  ourselves?  I  see  no  reason  why 
the  very  enthusiasm  and  eagerness  for  amuse 
ments  natural  to  southerners  should  not  be 
turned  into  the  channels  of  a  deeper  Chris 
tianity." 

Quite  an  argument  ensued,  in  which  it  was 
notable  that  the  forces  were  drawn  up  three  to 
a  side  ;  old  Mrs.  Powell,  Nellie,  and.  Armstrong 
against  Mistress  Amanda  and  her  two  cousins, 
city-bred  girls,  desirous  of  shining  in  conversa 
tion. 

Mistress  Amanda  carried  on  the  battle  with 
one  hand  behind  her,  so  to  speak.  She  dis 
dained  to  put  forth  her  full  intellectual  strength 
to  rout  a  stripling.  And  half  her  mind  was 
wandering  abroad  in  a  flight  after  her  hero, 
pursuing  his  angry  way  homeward.  Could  her 
imagination  have  given  her  a  true  picture  of 
Peter's  adventures  on  the  road,  she  might  have 
dropped  the  feint  of  interest  in  the  dinner-table 
topics  to  enjoy  the  thrill  of  real  feeling,  in  a 
more  singular  and  vigorous  turn  of  events  than 


PETER  WEAVER.  189 

was  promised  by  the  mild  social  elements  gath 
ered  at  Benvenew. 

Peter  had  met  his  enemy  on  the  lane  turn 
ing  off  toward  The  Oaks,  Funkhausen's  place. 
He  was  driving  along  at  a  leisurely  pace  in  his 
carryall  alone,  enjoying  his  meditations,  when  a 
fierce-browed  horseman  reined  up  beside  him 
and  caught  the  relaxed  reins  from  his  hands. 

"Git  out  o'  that,  Thed  Funkhausen,"  com 
manded  Peter.  "  I've  a  word  or  two  with  you." 

"  Hadn't  it  better  keep  till  another  time?" 
suggested  Funkhausen  in  a  tone  meant  to  be 
pacific. 

"  No,  it  won't  keep  !  "  thundered  Peter,  who 
had  no  mind  to  let  his  present  wrath  cool  into 
his  habitual,  easy-going  tolerance.  And  there 
was  a  force  of  circumstances  in  his  having  pos 
session  of  the  road  and  the  reins,  which  com 
pelled  Funkhausen  to  step  out ;  Peter  dis 
mounting  at  the  same  minute. 

"  What  'd  you  shut  my  cow  up  for  and 
starve  her  to  death  ?  " 

A  smile  of  sly  enjoyment  overspread  Funk- 


190  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

hausen's  face.  He  did  not  deny  the  charge, 
seeming  rather  to  take  pride  in  an  achievement 
so  original.  Funkhausen  feared  his  huge  an 
tagonist,  but  beside  being  a  burly  man  him 
self,  he  believed  that  he  was  near  enough  to 
home  for  his  negroes  to  be  within  call ;  and 
there  was  a  small  army  of  farm-hands  in  his 
service. 

So,  charges  were  met  by  defiance,  and  Peter's 
temper  ran  no  risk  of  dying  away  without  find 
ing  vent.  It  came  to  blows  before  many  ex 
pletives  had  made  the  air  hot,  and,  as  might 
have  been  expected,  Funkhausen  was  tendered 
to  the  care  of  mother  earth,  with  dust  for  his 
pillow.  But  although  with  that  issue  Peter 
began  to  find  forgiveness  sprouting  in  his  soul, 
new  complications  arose.  The  farm-hands  were 
within  call,  taking  their  ease  before  their  cabin 
doors,  and  enjoying  the  smell  of  their  dinners 
cooking.  At  Funkhausen's  lusty  cries  they 
came  pouring  down  the  lane,  realizing  the  duty 
of  obedience  to  the  man  who  supplied  their 
bread. 


PETER   WEAVER.  191 

"Surround  him  !  Surround  the  low-lived 
coon ! "  yelled  Funkhausen,  sputtering  and 
winking,  wiping  the  blood  from  his  nose  with 
his  best  Sunday  pocket-handkerchief. 

And  the  negroes  closed  around  the  tall  fig 
ure,  standing  firm  and  solid,  with  nothing  but 
his  fists  to  oppose  to  the  force  of  numbers. 

The  negroes  numbered  fifteen  men. 


III. 


THE  sunshine  of  a  perfect  October  day  lay 
full  upon  Peter  Weaver's  great  front  porch,  as 
he  sat  in  his  red  armchair,  smoking  his  after- 
dinner  pipe,  two  months  after  his  encounter 
with  Funkhausen.  Behind  the  porch  lay  the 
house;  a  minor  affair,  yet  comfortable  in  its 
way.  So  long  as  weather  permitted  Peter 
lived  upon  his  porches,  the  back  one,  fronting 
east,  in  the  mornings,  and  the  front  one  with 
the  western  exposure  in  the  afternoon.  From 
it  he  could  see  the  goose-pond  where  his  flock 


192  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

disported,  and  the  road,  not  very  lively,  but 
with  passing  features  of  interest  to  a  society 
loving  mind. 

His  bachelor  housekeeping  was  simple,  his 
farm  small,  and  the  good  grandparents  had 
brought  with  them  from  Holland  a  store  of 
Dutch  guelders  which  had  been  converted  into 
mining  stock  in  due  course,  and,  passing  down 
to  Peter,  made  his  living  a  comfortable  one. 
Had  he  chosen  to  loaf  all  day  long  upon  his 
porches  his  income  would  have  enabled  him 
to  do  so.  And  old  Aunt  Vina  and  her  two 
sons  would  not  have  lost  their  wages,  nor  the 
church  its  annual  liberal  check.  But  Peter  had 
an  industrious  streak  in  him,  and  worked  with 
all  his  might  when  he  did  work.  Afterwards 
he  indulged  himself  in  spells  of  meditation  and 
verse-writing. 

How  he  had  first  gained  courage  to  put  him 
self  before  the  public  as  a  poet  is  a  mystery. 
Possibly  he  had  hopes  of  making  his  name 
illustrious  in  little  Nellie's  eyes.  It  is  certain 
that  a  copy  of  the  Purcellville  Banner  with 


PETER  WEAVER.  193 

heavy  lines  in  red  ink  drawn  around  a  sonnet 
addressed  to  "  A  Sweetbriar  Rose,"  and  signed 
"  Heinrichs,"  had  reached  Benvenew  the  day 
after  being  issued.  Since  then  the  poet  had 
branched  out  in  other  directions  and  the  Ban 
ner  s  columns  were  enriched  with  an  amount  of 
original  matter  that  led  the  editor  seriously  to 
contemplate  the  possibility  of  abandoning  a 
"  patent  outside,"  and  depending  upon  home 
talent  to  fill  his  space.  Eventually,  the  disguise 
maintained  by  "  Heinrichs  "  was  penetrated  by 
his  neighbors  and  Peter  was  made  the  recip 
ient  of  attentions  varying  from  invitations 
to  dine  and  display  his  talent  for  versifica 
tion  at  the  Gordons,  all  the  way  down  to 
lampoons  in  chalk  upon  his  barn-door,  and 
hootings  from  the  six  red-haired  little  Clap- 
saddles. 

Pendleton  Haywood,  riding  by  one  morning, 
espied  the  sturdy  poet  with  his  sleeves  rolled 
up,  deep  in  molasses-making ;  and  thought  it 
opportune  to  call  out : 

"  Peter,  make  me  a  rhyme !  " 
13 


194  SO  UTHERN  HEA  R  TS. 

With  extraordinary  quickness  this  rejoinder 
was  thundered  back  : 

"  I'm  busy  just  now, 
Stirring  my  molasses, 
I've  no  time 
To  make  a  rhyme 
For  every  fool  that  passes." 

And  Pendleton  went  on  his  way  a  sadder 
man ;  for  the  six  red-haired  little  Clapsaddles 
were  as  usual  hanging  about  the  goose-pond,  and 
had  made  themselves  masters  of  this  colloquy  ; 
which,  consequently,  spread  with  the  rapidity 
of  a  Virginia  creeper,  from  Rocky  Point  to 
Purcellville. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  Peter's  gift  was  a 
great  comfort  to  him,  and,  modest  as  he  was, 
he  accepted  the  inevitable  fame  growing  out  of 
his  contributions  to  the  Banner  with  a  certain 
degree  of  complacency.  The  power  of  looking 
at  the  events  of  life  with  a  view  to  turning 
them  into  poetry  invests  even  common  subjects 
with  interest,  and  when  any  really  exciting 
thing  happens  the  gifted  mind  is  conscious  of 


PETER   WEAVER,  195 

a  wonderfully  uplifting  feeling,  such  as  the 
admiral  of  a  fleet  may  experience  when  an 
enemy's  ironclad  opens  fire.  Opportunity  is 
the  spur  that  starts  genius  into  a  canter. 

Peter  sat  smoking,  and  thinking  how  to  turn 
the  fight  between  himself  and  Funkhausen  into 
a  poem  which  should  arouse  the  enthusiastic 
admiration  of  all  readers  of  the  Banner ;  in 
cluding  Mistress  Amanda  and  perhaps  Nellie. 

When  Funkhausen  had  set  his  hirelings  upon 
the  stalwart  Peter  he  had  not  taken  into  ac 
count  two  things  :  one  was  that  there  was  not 
a  darkey  in  the  county  without  a  feeling  of 
personal  liking  for  the  kind-hearted  poet,  and 
the  other,  that  negroes  are  cowardly  except 
under  the  influence  of  excitement.  The  fore 
most  man  in  the  group  happened  to  be  one  to 
whose  family  Peter  had  rendered  many  kind 
nesses.  When  the  blue  eyes  of  his  master's 
victim  looked  steadily  into  his  own,  Jake  felt  a 
curious  tremor  of  mingled  superstition  and  per 
plexity,  which  caused  him  to  fall  back  on  his 
comrades  instead  of  advancing  to  the  attack 


196  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

Funkhausen  was  doing  his  best  to  urge  on. 
Peter's  raised  fist  conveyed  reminder  as  well  as 
menace.  That  hand  had  been  ready  to  extend 
help  to  those  in  need,  but  it  was  equally  ready 
to  strike  down  an  offender.  And  the  negroes 
did  not  like  the  looks  of  the  strong,  resolute 
white  man  standing  upon  the  defensive,  alone, 
but  with  right  upon  his  side.  They  began  to 
mutter  and  to  fall  back,  until  the  whole  mass 
had  melted  away  ;  in  some  way  bearing  Funk 
hausen  along  with  them.  Whereupon  Peter 
mounted  his  horse  and  quietly  rode  home. 

But  the  county  rang  with  the  affair.  As 
much  to  vindicate  himself  as  for  vengeance, 
Funkhausen  had  Peter  up  before  the  church 
for  discipline.  But  to  his  disgust,  and  to  the 
delight  of  everybody  else,  Deacon  Greene  de 
clared  that  Peter  had  done  nothing  to  be  dis 
ciplined  for ;  but  that  "  if  he  had  n't  fought 
Funkhausen  the  church  would  have  turned 
him  out !  " 

Mistress  Amanda  gave  a  dinner  party  and 
made  Peter  the  guest  of  the  occasion.  It  hap- 


PETER   WEAVER.  197 

pened  upon  Michaelmas  and  old  Aunt  Viny 
insisted,  for  luck's  sake,  upon  dressing  a  pair  of 
her  master's  geese,  and  sending  them  to  Ben- 
venew.  So  that  Peter  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
pretty  Nellie  blush  under  the  sly  allusion  made 
by  one  of  the  guests  to  the  old  proverb  about 
"  the  maid  that  eats  of  the  bachelor's  goose." 
But  on  the  other  hand,  common  sense  told  him 
that  blushing  was  with  Nellie  no  sign  of  especial 
embarrassment.  Indeed,  it  was  probable  that 
the  proverb  was  unknown  to  her.  She  was 
much  occupied,  all"  dinner-time,  with  the  account 
young  Armstrong — now  ordained  and  installed 
as  the  regular  preacher  for  Sneaking  Creek 
church — was  giving  her  of  a  bush-meeting  in 
the  woods  back  of  Purcellville.  He  was  anx 
ious  for  her  mother  to  take  her  to  the  meet 
ings,  but  Mistress  Amanda  did  not  like  bush- 
meetings  ;  and  she  was  not  inclined  to  encourage 
any  species  of  religious  excitement  in  Nellie. 
Peter  would  gladly  have  offered  to  drive  her 
but  he  could  not  venture  to  do  so  in  the  face  of 
her  mother's  disapproval.  It  seemed  a  little 


198  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

hard  to  him  that  he  should  not  be  able  to  avail 
himself  of  this  little  opportunity  to  please  the 
young  girl.  And  if  jealousy  had  been  possible 
to  him  he  must  have  felt  a  twinge  of  it  in  see 
ing  how  absorbed  Nellie  was  in  the  talk  Arm 
strong  was  pouring  into  her  ears.  But  the 
time  had  not  yet  come  for  him  to  recognize  the 
significance  of  what  was  going  on  under  his 
eye.  The  happenings  of  our  daily  life  are  like 
the  characters  at  a  masked  ball  Capering  be 
fore  us,  they  seem  entirely  unrelated  to  ourselves 
in  any  particular,  and  it  is  only  when  they  un 
mask  that  we  know  them  for  what  they  are. 

Peter,  the  dreamer,  wove  some  new  fancies 
about  his  dainty  love  as  he  sat  with  a  writing 
pad  upon  his  knee,  and  his  short  pipe  between 
his  lips.  The  world  was  very  beautiful  to  him. 
And  to-morrow  would  be  Sunday ;  the  happiest 
day  of  all  the  good  week;  for  he  would  see 
Nellie  at  church. 

The  collie  dog  at  his  feet  jumped  up  and  ran 
down  the  walk.  At  the  gate  stood  a  shabby 
phaeton  made  distinguished  by  carrying  Mis- 


PETER   WEAVER.  199 

tress  Amanda.  As  he  hastened  out  she  called 
in  a  loud,  clear  tone : 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Weaver,  have  you  any 
turkey  eggs  to  spare  ?  " 

Her  hand,  in  its  old  gray  gauntlet,  was  ex 
tended,  and  as  he  took  it  for  a  second  in  his  own 
she  added,  lower, 

"  So  much  as  a  concession  to  our  neighbor's 
greed,  yonder  !  " 

Peter  looked  and  saw  Elmer  Hall  approach 
ing,  driving  a  pair  of  hogs  before  him.  Taking 
the  cue,  he  talked  about  turkey  eggs  until  the 
grunts  had  died  away  in  the  distance. 

Then  said  madam — "  I  didn't  come  to  talk 
about  turkey  eggs." 

Peter  drew  a  hand  through  his  handsome 
hair ;  looked  down  reflectively  and  looked  up 
smiling.  "  Will  you  come  in  ?  "  he  suggested. 
A  decided  shake  of  the  head  answered  that. 
"  My  five  years'  seniority  wouldn't  excuse  it — 
to  the  Greenes  and  Aylors !  I  doubt  if  even 
my  mother  could  venture  it.  We  may  risk  ten 
minutes  here  at  the  gate." 


200  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

Mistress  Amanda  began  flicking  her  whip  at  a 
thistle ;  her  forehead  gathering  lines.  Suddenly 
the  words  shot  from  her : 

"  You  are  a  patient  man  !  " 

"  Well !  You  haven't  come  two  miles  to 
tell  me  that  ?  " 

"  But  I  have.  Patience  is  a  most  unusual 
virtue — in  a  man,  but  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
having  too  much  of  it.  Do  you  remember  the 
story  of  the  fox  and  the  wolf  ?  " 

"  The  nursery  tale  ?  Let  me  see.  I  think 
my  grandmother  used  to  tell  it  to  me,  but  that 
was  long  ago.  I  forget  the  point." 

"  The  wolf  bit  him — put  out  his  eyes,  and  so 
on,  the  fox  simply  saying  all  the  time,  '  pa 
tience  !  '  Till  finally  the  enemy  tore  his  heart 
out,  and  the  fox  found,  too  late,  that  patience 
is  the  most  dangerous  of  all  virtues." 

Peter  gazed  at  the  narrator  of  this  fable  in 
amazement.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  the 
idea  that  women  are  incomprehensible  found 
lodgment  in  his  mind. 

"  Ah,  I  see  you  think  me  daft,"  said  his  friend. 


PETER   WEAVER.  2OI 

And  not  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  by  any 
means,  she  found  a  man  dense. 

"  In  so  many  plain  words,  then,  are  you  not 
in  love  ?  " 

The  blood  seemed  on  the  point  of  bursting 
through  Peter's  skin  ;  his  head  weighed  a 
ton  ;  his  legs  became  pipe-stems.  He  gasped 
something  inarticulately.  Then,  manly  sense 
asserted  itself.  His  look  grew  steady  and  grave 
and  nobody  could  have  found  fault  with  his 
manner,  as  he  said  : 

"  You  know  I  love  your  daughter.  I  reckon 
everybody  knows  that." 

Mistress  Amanda  turned  impulsively.  Her 
face  had  been  carefully  averted  during  this 
conversation,  but  now  she  let  her  eyes  meet 
his.  There  was  the  emphasis  of  a  kept-down 
excitement  in  her  tone  : 

"  Everybody  except  the  one  person  who 
ought  to  know  it.  It  is  a  well-kept  secret  so 
far  as  she's  concerned." 

"  I've  only  been  waiting  for  the  right  time — 
she's  so  young — such  a  child  !  "  Things  danced 


202  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

in  the  sunshine  before  the  man's  eyes.  His 
long,  lovely  dream  !  — this  was  so  sudden  a  call 
to  hard  reality ;  he  could  not  waken  in  a 
minute. 

"  Nellie  is  not  a  girl  to  be  won  by  accumu 
lated  acts  of  worship,"  said  Mistress  Amanda 
tersely.  "  Some  girls  can  be  won  in  that  way  ; 
romantic  girls.  They  would  be  flattered  at 
being  made  the  subject  of  verses  ;  would  like 
to  feel  that  a  great,  powerful  creature  trembled 
before  them.  But  Nellie  is  wonderfully  free 
from  that  sort  of  vanity.  So  far  from  under 
standing  the  real  feeling  that  is  at  the  bottom 
of  all  the  favors  you  show  her  she  looks  upon 
you  as  a  sort  of  good  godfather  who  has  a 
fanciful,  half-playful  preference  for  her.  You 
have  never  come  near  enough  to  her  to  touch 
the  ruling  motive  of  her  character." 

It  sprang  to  Peter's  lips  to  ask  what  that 
was  ;  but  he  forbore  the  question.  There 
seemed  to  him  an  indelicacy  in  arriving  at  a 
comprehension  of  his  love  through  another 
person's  perceptions,  even  if  that  person  was 


PETER   WEAVER.  203 

her  mother.  Mistress  Amanda,  however,  was 
no  muddy  stream  whence  truth  must  be  labo 
riously  filtered  out,  but  a  clear  fountain,  throw 
ing  facts  high  and  rapidly  in  the  air  for  the 
dullest  seer  to  take  in. 

"  She  has  a  large  vein  of  the  practical  in  her. 
Probably  you  think — all  you  men  think — that, 
with  that  soaring  look,  her  feet  never  touch  the 
ground.  But  you  may  take  sentimental  flights 
into  the  region  of  romance  for  the  next  ten 
years  without  interesting  her  enough  to  make 
her  even  look  to  see  where  you  are.  Don't 
woo  her  with  poetry,  my  friend.  She  never 
reads  it.  I  never  saw  her  with  any  book  of 
verse  in  her  hand  except  a  hymn-book." 

A  wild  idea  of  putting  his  talent  to  this  use 
came  to  Peter.  After  a  moment's  reflection 
he  turned  it  out,  as  he  would  have  locked  his 
barn  door  against  a  suspicious  steed  bearing 
about  him  marks  of  gipsy  ownership.  And 
herein  did  my  honest  hero  show  his  Dutch  de 
scent  in  his  characteristic  rejection  of  schemes 
out  of  the  range  of  his  natural  inclination. 


204  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

"  I'm  not  much  of  a  poet,"  he  said,  with  an 
effort  at  a  laugh. 

"  You  look  at  things  rather  too  much  from 
a  sentimental  standpoint,"  observed  Mistress 
Amanda.  She  had  beaten  the  thistle  quite  to 
powder,  and,  laying  down  her  whip,  adjusted 
her  gauntlets  and  gathered  the  reins  into  a 
firm  grasp.  Her  fine  black  eyes  had  a  singular 
expression. 

"  Not  too  much  for  some  women.  The  kind 
of  sentiment  there  is  in  you  is  the  kind  that 
makes  a  man  loyal,  tender,  and — of  all  things 
the  rarest ! — appreciative  toward  the  woman 
you  may  marry  I  wish  girls  were  able  to  dis 
criminate  between  the  shepherding  qualities  in 
men  and  the  huntsman's  qualities.  But  they 
like  the  sound  of  the  horn  and  the  dash  of  the 
horses —  the  fiery  eye  and  the  masterful  grip  ! 
Only  after  their  gallants  have  thrown  aside  all 
their  pretty  trappings  and  come  down  to  the 
plain  garb  of  the  household  boss  do  they  learn 
that  a  little  kindness  and  consideration  in  a 
husband  outranks  all  the  more  showy  qualities." 


PETER   WEAVER.  205 

"  Nellie  certainly  ain't  one  to  be  taken  in  by 
a  glittering  outside — I  sh'd  think,"  Peter  re 
marked. 

"Not  of  the  kind  you  have  in  your  mind. 
But  she  is  peculiarly  constituted — extremely 
susceptible  to  anything  like  an  appearance  of 
superiority  of  the  moral  sort ;  or,  not  so  much  * 
moral — I  wish  it  was  that ! — but  spiritual  sort. 
Some  girls  pine  for  a  man  to  take  them  in  hand 
and  lead  them  along  the  straight  and  narrow 
path  ;  and  a  thorny  path  their  saintly  director 
generally  manages  to  make  it  for  them.  Bah, 
I've  no  patience  with  the  '  Queechy '  species  of 
hero  !  "  exclaimed  Mistress  Amanda,  lashing 
her  whip  in  the  air.  Her  horse,  however,  had 
sensibilities  of  his  own,  and  taking  this  as  a 
definite  appeal  to  his  own  intelligence  he 
started  down  the  road  at  a  pretty  brisk  pace, 
carrying  his  mistress  off  with  excellent  stage 
effect,  her  exit  speech  vibrating  in  Peter's  as 
tonished  ears. 

He  stood  leaning  upon  the  gate,  after  she 
had  turned  the  corner  of  the  lane,  foj  fifteen 


206  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

minutes  ;  his  cheerful  face  clouded  slightly  as 
he  chewed  the  cud  his  friend  had  shown  him, 
gazing,  ox-like,  at  the  present  surroundings 
that  lay  about  his  feet,  and  unable  to  realize, 
even  after  some  effort,  the  meaning  of  the  sug 
gestions  that  had  been  made  as  to  possible 
dangers  lurking  in  the  future. 

There  was  a  placidity  about  Peter  amounting 
to  dulness,  when  he  was  pricked  upon  the  mat 
ter  of  threatened  changes.  Your  light-weight 
men,  nervous,  springy,  and  quick-glancing,  are 
full  of  apprehensions ;  they  believe  that  it  is 
no  more  than  likely  that  to-morrow  may  be 
doomsday,  and  they  prepare  themselves  even 
for  the  most  improbable  crises.  But  two  hun 
dred  pounds  gives  a  certain  faith  in  the  estab 
lished  order  of  things,  and  it  is  a  significant 
fact  that  bulk  and  the  conceit  that  the  world 
moves  slowly,  go  together.  Foretellers  are  so 
apt  to  have  a  lean  and  meagre  frame  that  I 
should  be  loth  to  trust  the  pretensions  of  a 
prophet  over-endowed  with  flesh.  So  the  fact 
that  Peter  had  a  constitutional  dislike  to  being 


PETER  WEAVER.  207 

stirred  up  to  initiative  acts  must  be  laid  to  his 
girth  and  his  double  chin  ;  not  to  any  lack  of 
fine  feeling.  His  affection  for  Nellie  had  be 
come  so  much  a  part  of  himself  that  it  partook 
of  his  temperament,  and  was  deliberate  and 
sober  ;  incapable  of  sudden  transitions.  Ador 
ing  her  at  a  distance  had  the  charm  of  familiar 
ity,  and  although  in  sentimental  moods  the 
man  liked  to  picture  his  star,  his  flower,  as  a 
little  housewife,  seated  of  evenings  by  his  side 
before  the  fire,  with  some  sewing  in  her  dainty 
fingers,  and  a  tenderly  inclined  ear  toward  the 
thing  he  might  like  to  read  to  her ;  still,  he  had 
grown  so  used  to  thinking  of  such  scenes  as 
afar  off  that  to  be  suddenly  desired  to  look  at 
the  necessity  of  at  once  taking  steps  to  make 
his  dream  a  reality,  or  else  to  abandon  hope  of 
ever  making  it  one,  was  to  ask  too  much  of  his 
optimistic  nature.  For  what  is  an  optimist  but 
a  person  who  believes  that  everything  will  turn 
out  all  right ;  whether  he  chooses  to  go  to 
work  at  dawn  or  lie  in  bed  till  twelve  ? 

But,  Peter's  indolence  had  a  tinge  of  nobility 


208  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

in  it.  He  saw  a  young  girl,  happy  in  her  igno 
rance  of  life's  responsibilities,  fresh,  sweet, 
and  bright,  with  the  reflection  of  her  own  in 
nocent  and  tender  fancies  shining  in  her  un 
clouded  eyes,  and  he  was  loth  to  interpose  his 
tall  shadow  between  her  and  the  landscape. 
His  wish  had  been  to  stand  aside  until  she 
should  come  gradually  to  recognize  him  as  an 
agreeable  feature  of  it,  perhaps  to  learn  to  look 
upon  him  as  something  indispensable  to  her 
life,  making  a  part — a  large  part  of  her  happi 
ness.  Some  men  of  generous  nature  prefer  to 
have  a  woman  turn  toward  them  of  her  own 
accord  rather  than  to  put  forth  the  effort  that 
makes  wooing  an  affair  of  capture.  It  is  pretty 
certain  to  happen,  though,  that  the  choice  of  a 
man  of  this  view  is  apt  to  fall  upon  a  girl 
whose  instinct  is  not  so  much  womanly  as 
feminine.  And  those  who  have  studied  woman 
kind  will  understand  the  distinction. 

But  Mistress  Amanda's  point  had,  neverthe 
less,  been  made,  for  she  had  given  Peter  to 
understand  that  there  was  a  rival  in  the  field. 


PETER   WEAVER.  209 

And  the  most  optimistic  of  men  does  not  fail 
to  experience  certain  sensations  in  his  brain 
extending  to  his  strong  right  arm,  when  an  in 
truder  threatens  to  snatch  away  the  glass  where 
he  is  quietly  watching  the  full  bead  gather  and 
waiting  to  raise  it  to  his  thirsting  lips. 


IV. 


IF  Peter's  thoughts  had  sought  his  rival  they 
would  have  found  him  at  a  certain  fine  old 
mansion  bearing  upon  the  face  of  the  stone 
gate-post  the  name  ROSELAWN.  A  well  shad 
ed  drive  swept  up  to  the  doorway,  hospitably 
broad,  and  in  seasonable  weather  open,  giving 
a  view  of  such  a  hall  as  can  only  be  found  in  an 
old  southern  house.  Family  portraits  looked 
down  from  the  walls  upon  the  carefully  pre 
served  furniture,  recognizing,  it  may  be,  with 
some  satisfaction,  the  presence  of  articles  that 
had  been  in  favor  during  their  lifetime. 

It  was  Monday  morning,  and  breakfast  time, 
14 


210  SO  UTHERX  HE  A  R  TS. 

according  to  the  habits  of  the  Armstrong 
family.  The  judge  was  in  his  place,  his  wife, 
comely,  neat,  and  quiet,  was  in  hers,  and  the 
three  daughters,  Laura,  Violet,  and  Bess,  had 
come  in  severally,  and  slipped  into  their  chairs 
after  a  warm  greeting  to  their  father  and  a 
rather  less  impulsive  and  loving  one  to  their 
quiet  mother. 

"  Miles  not  down  ?"  said  Violet,  the  spright- 
liest  of  the  sisters ;  a  slim  girl  with  a  delicately 
up-tilted  face  in  which  dark  eyes  and  a  saucily 
curved  mouth  prepared  one  for  good-humored 
but  probably  pointed  banter. 

"Down!"  repeated  that  personage,  coming 
in,  and  dropping  discontentedly  into  the  vacant 
chair  next  to  his  mother.  "If  you  had  been 
up  and  keeping  your  chickens  in  order  instead 
of — whatever  else  you  were  doing — I  could 
have  got  some  sleep  after  four  o'clock  and  been 
down  before.  I  wish  you'd  think  proper  to 
orderthat  black  rooster  made  into  fricassee,"  lie- 
continued  to  his  mother,  who  had  no  time  to 
reply,  however,  for  Violet  put  in  an  instant  pro- 


PETER   WEAVER.  211 

test  for  her  pet  Captain  Jinks,  who  was  such  a 
darling,  and  so  intelligent  he  could  do  every 
thing  except  talk. 

Miles  dropped  the  subject,  not  caring  to 
compromise  his  dignity  by  a  dispute  over  such 
a  trifle,  but  his  entire  bearing  expressed  that 
appearance  of  unappreciated  worth  which  is  so 
exasperating  to  women  in  a  family  ;  divining, 
as  they  do,  that  the  root  of  it  is  invariably 
some  kind  of  causeless  irritation.  The  girls 
discovered  in  a  minute  that  Miles  had  "  got 
out  of  the  wrong  side  of  the  bed  "  that  morn 
ing  ;  this  supplying  a  vague,  kindly  explanation 
of  his  acerbities  of  temper.  Undoubtedly  he 
was  cross.  It  showed  in  his  way  of  receiving 
a  remark  that  Laura  now  made.  Laura  was  of 
the  languid  type  of  fair  women;  heavy-lidded 
gray  eyes,  peachy  skin,  and  flesh  all  wrought  into 
curving  lines.  A  subdued  greed  of  pleasure  is 
the  predominating  quality  of  this  sisterhood, 
often  existing  under  the  perfect  disguise  of  plain 
tive,  gentle  renunciation.  When  thoroughly 
understood  they  weep  the  profuse  tears  of  spirits 


212  SO UTHERN  HEAR TS. 

feeling  themselves  above  the  comprehension  of 
the  ordinary  mind. 

"  Please  get  Wash  to  hitch  Peg-leg  to  the 
phaeton  right  after  breakfast,  will  you  ?  "  Laura 
said.  "  I  must  drive  over  to  Miss  Annie's  to 
try  on  my  dress  she  is  making  for  the  tourna 
ment." 

The  light  of  disapproval  kindled  in  Miles' 
grave  face. 

"  Are  you  girls  going  to  persist  in  attending 
that  silly  entertainment  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  You  certainly  didn't  used  to  think  it  silly," 
answered  the  one  chiefly  addressed.  "  Time 
was — and  not  so  very  long  ago,  either — when 
you  rode  at  tournaments  yourself !  I  haven't 
forgotten  the  tournament  at  Manasses  two 
years  ago,  when  we  were  visiting  cousin  Jennie 
Davis  " 

But  Miles'  head  had  disappeared,  following 
his  hands  in  a  dive  beneath  the  table  for  his 
egg-cup,  rolled  off  by  a  movement  of  his  arm 
that  would  have  seemed  scarcely  accidental 
could  this  young  gentleman  have  been  sus- 


PETER  WEAVER.  213 

pected  of  an  ulterior  wish  to  cut  short  some 
embarrassing  allusion.  Every  one  is  endowed 
with  some  propensity  tending  to  the  discom-  . 
fiture  of  others.  Laura's  talent  in  this  direction, 
unknown  to  herself,  lay  in  bringing  up  people's 
outgrown  inclinations  ;  so  keeping  them  to  the 
mortified  level  of  a  self  they  conceived  they  had 
risen  above  and  would  fain  forget.  Reminis 
cences  of  this  kind  are  peculiarly  afflicting  to 
young  divines,  to  whom  the  problem  of  pre 
serving  an  appearance  commensurate  with  the 
severity  of  their  doctrine  is  often  in  danger 
from  the  good  memories  of  their  intimate 
friends.  Can  we  wonder  that  the  ordained 
preacher  of  twenty-two  shrank  sensitively  from 
'  reminders  of  the  peccadilloes  committed  by  the 
gay  youth  of  twenty  ? 

Miles  suffered,  in  the  privacy  of  family  life, 
from  the  tendency  to  treat  him  as  an  ordinary 
young  man,  whereas,  he  felt  that  he  had  become 
remarkable.  To  be  informed,  at  the  instant  of 
assuming  a  superior  tone,  that  he  had  been 
used  to  joining  in  the  customs  he  condemned 


214  SO  UTHERN  HEAR  TS. 

was  sufficiently  humiliating.  But  Laura's  ob 
servation  held  a  sting  for  his  irritable  conscience 
that  she  had  no  idea  of.  The  dropping  of  the 
egg-cup  had  stopped  her  slow  speech,  for  she 
had  an  acute  sense  of  sympathy  for  awkward 
ness  in  a  person  ordinarily  free  from  it,  being 
herself  studiously  graceful. 

"  Let  Sally  bring  you  another  egg,"  she  was 
good  enough  to  suggest.  The  yellow  damsel 
dawdling  against  the  side  table  put  herself  to 
some  trouble  to  carry  out  the  order,  for  the  ad 
miration  that  was  but  lukewarm  in  the  house 
glowed  effulgently  in  the  kitchen  ;  the  young 
preacher  being  idolized  by  the  negroes. 

But  Miles'  appetite  had  been  satisfied.  He 
pushed  back  his  plate  and  looked  past  his 
offending  sister  into  space  ;  his  mind  taking  a 
flight  in  search  of  consolation  ending  at  Ben- 
venew,  making  some  pretty  notes  of  a  pair  of 
confiding  eyes  and  a  sweetly  deferential  tongue 
that  had  never  uttered  a  word  hurtful  to  his 
self-esteem.  Of  one  devout  disciple  he  was 
sure.  Mingled  with  his  triumph  in  it  was  a 


PETER  WE  A  VEX.  215 

grateful  acknowledgment  of  the  immense  ad 
vantage  in  this  connection  of  quality  over  quan 
tity  ;  the  sweetbriar  rose  being  worth  all  the 
rest  of  feminine  creation. 

"  What's  that  about  the  tournament  ?  "  the 
judge  inquired.  Three  girlish  voices  chimed 
an  answer  of  which  he  extracted  the  gist  at  his 
leisure ;  managing  to  arrive  at  the  important 
item,  that  Miles  was  setting  himself  above  all 
innocent  amusements,  and  declined  to  accom 
pany  his  sisters  to  the  tournament. 

"  Miles'  nonsense  be  damned  !  "  said  the  head 
of  the  house.  "  I'll  be  your  beau  if  he  won't.  I 
reckon  I'm  young  enough  yet  to  go  about  with 
all  of  you."  The  judge  was  forty-five,  and  ex 
cepting  for  a  little  too  much  fulness  of  chin, 
and  a  slight  stiffness  in  his  knees,  he  might  have 
passed  for  the  handsome  elder  brother  of  his 
son.  Secretly,  he  was  proud  of  the  boy  and 
looked  upon  the  extreme  views  he  held  as  the 
natural  excess  of  an  enthusiastic  temperament 
concentrating  itself  upon  theology.  He  expect 
ed  Miles  to  grow  more  reasonable  when  his 


2 1 6  SO UTHERN  HEAR  TS. 

first  zeal  should  have  worn  off.  But  his  own 
disposition  was  choleric,  and  while  he  was  look 
ing  forward  to  an  amelioration  of  the  strict 
views  held  by  the  young  preacher  he  was  fre 
quently  tempted  to  bluster  a  little  upon  their 
points  of  difference. 

The  Armstrongs  were  rather  given  to  dispu 
tations,  and  the  household  atmosphere  was  not 
seldom  an  uncomfortable  one  for  the  neutral 
mother,  who  had  positive  opinions  upon  only 
two  subjects:  the  flavor  of  cookery  and  the 
good  looks  of  her  husband.  She  was  quite 
satisfied  that  her  son  treated  her  respectfully, 
that  he  had  good  manners,  and  that  his  clothes 
set  well ;  in  less  important  points  he  was  wel 
come  to  follow  his  own  inclinations.  During 
little  clashes  she  was  accustomed  to  occupy 
herself  with  considerations  about  the  next 
dinner.  Therefore,  Miles  was  surprised  to  hear 
her  say : 

"  I  think  Miles  is  very  much  in  the  right  in 
not  giving  his  countenance  to  tournaments. 
As  a  minister,  he  couldn't.  They  bet  on  the 


PETER  WEAVER.  217 

horses  and  betting's  not  right.  I  heard  that 
Penny  Haywood  bet  fifty  dollars  last  year  and 
lost.  I'm  sure,  Judge,  you  wouldn't  like  Miles 
to  bet?" 

The  judge  had  given  to  this  unwonted  ani 
mation  the  compliment  of  wide-open  eyes  and 
smiling  mouth. 

"  No  danger  of  Miles  betting.!  "  he  answered, 
reassuringly.  "  All  I  ask  is  that  he  shouldn't 
be  so  stiff-necked  about  his  sisters  taking  their 
enjoyment  in  the  way  of  all  young  folks." 

Miles  had  again  betrayed  singular  discom 
fiture  at  this  new  suggestion  about  himself. 
The  slow,  faint  color  of  one  who  colors  seldom 
and  then  from  mortification,  burned  in  his 
cheeks,  and  he  arose  with  a  muttered  excuse 
and  left  the  room,  turning  at  the  door  to  say  : 

"  I'll  have  Peg-Leg  put  in  the  phaeton  for 
you,  Laura." 

The  instinct  to  seek  comfort  for  his  wounded 
self-love  would  have  driven  him  straight  to 
Benvenew,  but  it  was  too  early  in  the  day,  and 
he  had  no  excuse.  The  morning  wore  away 


2 1 8  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

tediously.  Unhappily  for  the  young  man  the 
things  that  had  once  interested  him  and  fur 
nished  occupation  for  his  spare  hours  were  now 
under  the  ban  of  his  tyrant  conscience.  He 
had  embraced  the  course  known  as  "  setting  a 
good  example,"  and  for  the  sacrifices  involved 
he  found  recompense  both  in  his  own  con 
sciousness  of  superiority  and  in  the  fact  that 
Nellie  looked  on  and  admired.  Yet,  if  he  was 
in  danger  of  becoming  a  prig,  there  were  sound 
faculties  in  him  that  made  it  quite  as  probable 
that  some  sudden  turn  would  swing  him  into 
the  path  of  practical  usefulness.  At  home  he 
met  at  every  turn  with  just  the  sort  of  opposi 
tion  to  confirm  his  dislike  of  the  easy  self- 
indulgence  that  swayed  the  rest. 

Everybody  else  in  the  Armstrong  family  did 
what  he  or  she  wished  to  do  ;  it  was  for  him  to 
do  what  he  thought  right,  regardless  of  inclina 
tions.  Laura  was  indolently  selfish,  Violet 
energetically  set  upon  carrying  out  her  own 
plans,  and  Bess,  his  junior  by  a  year,  was 
strong-minded ;  something  that  in  his  view 


PETER   WEAVER.  219 

was  less  endurable  than  pure  frivolity.  His 
bitter  admiration  for  her  cleverness  sometimes 
found  vent  in  expressions  of  solicitude  for  her 
future  husband,  to  which  she  always  responded 
that  his  wife  would  have  her  profound  sym 
pathy,  for  his  ideas  of  the  family  state  were 
founded  upon  Old  Testament  precedent,  to 
which  the  new  dispensation  and  womanhood 
were  altogether  opposed. 

Sauntering  discontentedly  along  the  great 
stretch  of  piazza  Miles  heard  stray  bits  of  his 
sisters'  talk  as  they  sat  at  work,  and  contrasted 
it  with  Nellie's  sweet,  sensible  remarks,  and 
the  feeling  of  her  perfection  grew  strong  in 
him.  Beginning  in  agreement  of  tastes  and 
opinions  the  intimacy  between  the  two  young 
people  had  now  reached  the  stage  wnere  con 
scious  preference  may  at  any  instant  change  to 
blind  attraction.  Sedateness  and  dignity  had 
marked  their  intercourse  so  far ;  but  the  im 
pulse  Miles  felt  swelling  his  breast  was  the  first 
rise  of  a  wave  capable  of  sweeping  away  all 
the  pretty  dalliances  of  friendship,  and  of  car- 


220  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS, 

rying  him  out  on  the  swift  flowing  sea  of  a 
great  passion.  His  was  a  temperament  sure  to 
love  ardently  and  he  had  not  dissipated  his 
energies  prematurely. 

Two  o'clock  sees  our  young  preacher 
mounted  on  his  Kentucky  thoroughbred 
mare,  Stella,  a  beautiful  chestnut,  tractable 
only  with  her  owner.  As  he  leaped  into  the 
saddle  she  looked  so  knowing  that  he,  to  try 
her,  let  the  reins  hang,  and  said  softly,  "  To 
Benvenew  !  "  Whereupon  the  intelligent  crea 
ture  gave  her  slender  head  a  light  toss,  and 
started  off  up  the  slope  of  the  hill  at  a  pace 
that  brought  him,  in  less  than  an  hour,  to  the 
grand  old  park  that  surrounded  that  historic 
mansion. 

He  had  feared  to  find  Nellie,  as  usual,  sur 
rounded  by  the  rest ;  but  as  he  drew  near  the 
little  summer-house,  covered  with  a  luxuriant 
grape-vine,  now  rich  in  purple  clusters,  he  saw 
her  standing  there,  a  basket  on  her  arm,  filling 
it  with  the  grapes.  In  a  moment  he  was  on 
the  ground  beside  her,  Stella  standing  still, 


PETER  WEAVER.  22 1 

untied,  and  docile  to  his  wish  as  an  obedient 
child. 

At  the  first  shy  glance  she  gave  him,  Miles 
forgot  the  smart  to  his  vanity  that  had  sent 
him  to  her,  forget  everything  but  that  the 
sweetest  girl  in  the  world  stood  there,  blushing 
under  his  fixed  gaze,  her  little  fingers  trembling 
in  his  grasp,  for  when  she  laid  her  hand  in 
his  he  suddenly  found  it  impossible  to  let  it 

g°- 

"  Come  and  sit  down,  please,"  he  said,  draw 
ing  her  inside  the  bower  and  seating  himself 
beside  her  on  the  rustic  bench.  "  It  is  an  age 
since  I  saw  you." 

"  Yesterday  ?  "  questioned  Nellie,  demurely 
raising  her  brows. 

"  I  don't  count  seeing  you  in  a  crowd.  The 
last  time  we  really  had  any  time  together  was 
at  the  fair — away  back  in  September.  There 
are  so  many  things  I  have  always  wanted  to 
talk  with  you  about.  You  are  the  only  person 
that  has  a  real  sympathy  with  me  in  the  work 
I  am  trying  to  do  here,  Miss  Nellie,  And 


222  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

you  don't  know  how  dearly  I  value  your  sym 
pathy," 

Now,  my  innocent,  modest  beauty  had 
known  what  it  is  to  hear  manly  voices  sink 
into  tender  cadence,  declaring  her  sympathy 
necessary  to  all  their  aims  and  enterprises  in 
life,  nor  had  the  deeper  experience  of  that 
special  pleading,  to  which  this  is  the  prelimi 
nary,  been  wanting.  The  practical  sense  her 
mother  had  spoken  of  gave  her  intimation  of 
the  thing  that  yet  lay,  half  unsuspected,  in  the 
depths  of  Armstrong's  mind,  like  the  sweet 
arbutus  under  the  smothering  cedar.  The  cedar 
here  was  the  young  man's  egotism,  claiming 
attention  as  its  right,  and  some  storm  wind 
would  have  to  sweep  the  prickly  covering  away 
before  the  delicate  blossoms  of  real  love  re 
vealed  themselves. 

And  the  storm  wind  was  even  at  that  mo 
ment  brewing.  It  is  usually  while  we  are  most 
free  from  forebodings,  most  satisfied  with  our 
selves,  that  the  ugly  head  of  misfortune  thrusts 
from  around  the  corner  and  brings  us  with  a 


PETER  WEAVER.  223 

shock  to  a  recognition  that  the  past  is  perpetu 
ally  linking  itself  with  the  present,  and  that  a 
forgotten  sin  is  capable  of  coming  to  life  after 
we  have  left  it  in  the  desert  to  starve. 

Nellie  had  begun  to  murmur  that  she  was 
happy  if  anything  she  could  do  was  a  help  to 
him,  when  her  soft  speech  was  interrupted  by 
a  flying  scout  from  the  house,  a  small  negro 
boy,  whose  bare  heels  scarcely  rested  upon  the 
ground  while  he  delivered  in  emphatic  voice  a 
message  from  Mistress  Amanda  : 

"  Miss  Nell,  yo's  ter  go  straight  ter  th' 
house,  ef  yo'  please,  ter  say  good-by  ter  Mr. 
Beeswax  afore  he  leaves.  Lemme  tote  de 
grapes." 

The  basket  was  seized,  and  the  scout  began 
the  march,  looking  back  every  instant  to  be 
assured  that  the  young  pair  followed. 

They  followed  with  vexation  in  the  heart  of 
one,  at  least.  To  the  other  it  was  more  of  a 
habit  to  submit  her  will  to  others,  so  her  face 
remained  calm  and  her  tones  gentle  as  she  re 
plied  to  the  slight  remarks  Armstrong  forced 


224  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

himself  to  make.  At  the  door  the  scout  left 
them  to  deposit  his  burden  in  the  kitchen  and 
go  back  after  Stella,  whom  he  was  burning  to 
mount,  not  dreaming  of  the  experience  that 
was  in  store  for  him. 

The  young  pair  entered  the  parlor  and  found 
Mistress  Amanda  and  old  lady  Powell  enter 
taining  a  short,  keen-eyed,  sallow  man  whose 
age  was  not  to  be  easily  guessed.  His  occupa 
tion  might  have  been  set  down  as  mercantile, 
and  he  was,  in  fact,  a  commercial  drummer. 

"  Mr.  Beesly,  let  me  present  you  to  Mr.  Arm 
strong,  our  minister,"  said  Mistress  Amanda, 
formally. 

The  stranger  bowed  with  ironical  exaggera 
tion.  "  I  have  met  Mr.  Armstrong  before,"  he 
said,  in  what  struck  her  as  a  disagreeably  sig 
nificant  tone.  She  gave  a  swift,  searching  look 
at  the  young  preacher. 

Armstrong  was  standing  with  a  rigid  air  of 
dignity  that  sat  not  ill  on  his  handsome  person. 
But  he  had  suddenly  grown  very  pale. 


PETER  WEAVER.  225 


V. 


IT  spoke  well  for  Armstrong  that,  at  the  very 
instant  of  running  into  a  most  unexpected  and 
disagreeable  dilemma,  he  did  not  wish  he  had 
been  warned  so  that  he  might  have  avoided  it. 
A  Gorgon  would  have  been  a  winning  object  to 
him  in  comparison  with  the  wiry  little  man 
now  smiling  a  curiously  double-faced  smile  at 
him,  but  beyond  the  involuntary  pallor  that  had 
come  he  gave  no  sign  of  discomfiture ;  and 
after  a  sharp  glance  to  see  how  his  salutation 
had  been  met,  Beesly  turned  away  with  a 
mutter  that  lost  itself  in  his  bushy  whiskers, 
"  true  grit  !  "  and  began  to  make  himself  fasci 
nating  to  Nellie. 

She  had  been  sent  for  to  bid  this  forty-second 
cousin  good-by,  but  now  she  was  here  he 
seemed  in  no  haste  to  depart.  Leaving  Arm 
strong  to  the  tender  mercies  of  Mistress  Amanda, 
he  followed  the  young  girl  over  to  her  grand- 


226  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

mother's  sofa,  where  she  had  shyly  taken 
refuge,  and  drawing  up  a  chair  in  front  of  the 
two,  bent  himself  to  entertain. 

No  men  have  more  facility  in  this  line  than 
"  drummers."  They  learn  to  observe  human 
nature  and  become  adept  at  humorous  descrip 
tion  of  adventures,  taking  pains  to  tone  their 
note  up  or  down  to  suit  their  company.  It  can 
be  a  "  bray  "  among  other  men,  and  a  "  coo  " 
with  women.  For  the  chaste  ears  of  old  lady 
Powell,  and  her  innocent  granddaughter, 
Beesly's  talk  was  a  light  sparkle  of  harmless 
fun  that  drew  the  laughter  of  both.  Nellie 
had  a  sense  of  fun — not  humor — under  her 
demureness,  and  she  was  pleased  and  amused 
as  he  meant  her  to  be. 

To  the  investigating  glances  Armstrong 
threw  toward  her  corner  from  time  to  time, 
there  was  presented  the  singular  spectacle  of 
the  girl  who  had,  but  a  few  minutes  before, 
been  blushing  under  his  words  of  admiration, 
seeming  wholly  content  with  the  exchange  of 
another  man's  company  for  his  own ;  even  al- 


PETER   WEAVER.  227 

though  she  must  have  realized  that  an  inter 
view  had  been  interrupted  which  promised  to 
be  an  important  one. 

Important  to  the  lady,  Sir  Egoist?  Mark 
her  now,  leaning  back  against  the  red  silk 
cushions,  as  Beesly  bends  eagerly  forward  in 
the  full  swing  of  some  fine  narrative ;  the 
dimpling  smile  showing  a  glimpse  of  even, 
milk-white  teeth  behind  a  bud  of  a  mouth, 
dewily  innocent  as  a  baby's.  The  light  in  the 
wily  fellow's  eyes  is  reflected  in  her  hazel  ones 
as  she  catches  the  point  of  his  sketch,  and  now 
she  hides  her  lovely  face  against  her  grand 
mother's  ample  bosom,  in  an  outburst  of  mirth 
so  rare  with  her  as  to  seem  almost  indecorous. 
Has  it  ever  been  your  good  fortune,  Miles 
Armstrong,  to  arouse  so  hearty  an  interest  and 
sway  so  readily  that  timid  nature  ?  She  has 
certainly  forgotten  you,  and  the  serious  busi 
ness  of  life  you  are  so  fond  of  discoursing  with 
her,  in  the  glow  of  feelings  natural  to  youth 
and  feminine  love  of  enjoyment. 

Armstrong's    face    grew    gloomy,    and    his 


228  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

conversation  absent-minded,  while  Mistress 
Amanda,  taking  note  of  everything,  was  led  to 
speculate  on  a  set  of  possibilities  that  had 
never  before  suggested  themselves  to  her  astute 
intellect.  Was  it  possible  that  the  law  of  con 
trasts,  leading  the  fancies  of  men  and  maidens 
to  attach  themselves  to  the  persons  most  dis 
similar,  could  apply  to  her  daughter  Nellie,  for 
whom  she  had  been  anticipating  a  very  differ 
ent  inclination  !  Girls  were  capable  of  such 
freaks.  After  all,  if  it  were  not  for  Peter 
Weaver,  the  idea  of  Beesly  as  a  permanent 
member  of  the  family  would  not  be  so  un 
welcome.  His  shrewd  sense  and  light  views 
formed  a  very  good  balance  to  the  over-serious 
ness  of  the  young  girl.  Mingled  with  a  pang 
for  her  silent  and  devoted  hero,  Mistress 
Amanda  felt  a  certain  satisfaction  in  this  intro 
duction  of  a  new  player  into  her  little  domestic 
drama.  She  became  more  affable  with  the 
young  preacher. 

These  two  had  never  yet  been  able  to  strike 
upon  a  single  topic  of  mutual  interest  where 


PETER  WEAVER.  229 

the  clash  of  disagreement  did  not  instantly 
lead  to  silence. 

"  Let  us  harmonize  upon  the  weather," 
Mistress  Amanda  had  once  observed  when 
argument  had  threatened  to  become  personal. 
But  one  cannot  always  talk  about  the  weather. 
She  tried  apples. 

"  Is  your  father  shipping  his  usual  quantity 
of  golden  pippins  to  England  this  fall  ?  I 
hear  that  he  has  had  the  honor  of  furnishing 
some  to  the  queen's  own  table  ;  that  her  pref 
erence  is  for  pippins." 

"Three  thousand  barrels,  I  believe,"  said 
Armstrong,  in  a  lukewarm  response. 

"  Indeed  !  That  means  quite  a  nice  return 
in  money  ;  "  her  tone  had  a  tinge  of  regret  for 
her  own  exclusion  from  so  excellent  a  business 
arrangement.  The  orchard  at  Benvenew  was  a 
fairly  fine  one,  but  its  full  resources  were  un 
developed  for  lack  of  capital.  If  she  had  the 
money  Mistress  Amanda  felt  sure  she  might 
rival  the  success  of  the  master  of  Roselawn, 
who  was  rolling  up  a  fortune  before  the  ad- 


230  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

miring  eyes  of  his  neighbors.  Envy  of  a 
neighbor's  superior  success  is  not  a  Virginian 
trait.  All  your  true  Virginian  asks  for  is  the 
tithe  due  to  friendship  and  he  will  put  hands 
in  pockets  and  look  on  while  the  enterprising 
compatriot  piles  up  his  dollars.  But,  being  a 
woman,  Benvenew's  mistress  could  not  and 
did  not  try  to  suppress  the  emulative  instinct 
that  made  her  long  for  an  opportunity  to  prove 
her  business  capacity. 

Beesly's  ears,  sharp  as  a  hunter's,  had  caught 
the  word  "  money,"  and  with  his  quick  way  of 
whirling  about,  he  threw  a  sentence  toward  the 
other  guest. 

"  By  the  way,  talking  of  money,  Armstrong, 
it's  kind  of  curious,  isn't  it  ? — But,  never  mind, 
we'll  have  a  chance  to  discuss  that  going 
home.  What  I  was  going  to  tell  you  was 
about  the  wedding  of  the  turkey-girl  in  the 
Tennessee  mountains,"  he  continued,  turning 
back  with  equal  suddenness  to  his  old  and 
young  auditors,  who  had  scarcely  had  time  to 
follow  his  flight  with  their  eyes  before  he  was 


PETER  WEAVER.  231 

with  them  again,  fluent  as  a  blackbird  rehears 
ing  a  well-practised  theme. 

Was  it  a  malicious  impulse  suddenly  checked 
by  compunction  for  the  man  he  was  "  cutting 
out,"  and  toward  whom  decency  demanded  at 
least  the  avoidance  of  insult  upon  the  top  of 
injury?  Or  was  it  a  mere  random  arrow  from 
his  whimsical  quiver  that  had  made  the  young 
preacher  start  and  redden,  while  his  deep  eyes 
began  to  burn  with  an  intense  fire  that  promised 
some  strong  kind  of  entertainment  for  the 
person  proposing  to  accompany  him  "  home." 

Whichever  it  was,  Armstrong  nowr  made  up 
his  mind  that  as  his  object  in  coming  to  Ben- 
venew  had  been  defeated,  he  would,  at  least, 
take  the  initiative  in  breaking  up  that  little 
stance  yonder,  toward  which  he  felt  unsancti- 
fied  resentment. 

He  arose.  At  the  movement  old  lady  Pow 
ell,  whose  pleasure  in  the  vivacity  of  her  en 
tertainer  had  been  more  than  once  disturbed 
by  the  feeling  that  she  was  not  paying  proper 
attention  to  her  minister,  gently  released  her- 


232  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

self  from  her  granddaughter's  encircling  arm, 
and  came  towards  him. 

"  You  shorely  ain't  thinkin'  o'  goin',  yit, 
Mr.  Armstrong  ?  Why,  we  hain't  seen  nothin' 
o'  you  yit,  and  it's  seldom  enough  you  come. 
Stay  to  tea,  now !  Mandy,  do  press  Mr.  Arm 
strong  to  stay  to  tea  !  " 

"  Will  sally-lunn  tempt  you  5  "  smiled  Mis 
tress  Amanda,  choosing  always  to  suppose 
that  the  proper  appeal  to  men  was  through 
appetite.  But  she  overlooked  the  counter 
poise  of  sentiment  when  a  man  is  under 
twenty-five.  Armstrong  remained  standing. 
A  word  from  Nellie  might  have  changed  his 
mind,  but  although  she  looked  at  him  she  did 
not  speak ;  and,  unfortunately,  Beesly  did. 
His  high-pitched  voice  made  his  interference 
doubly  offensive  to  the  young  preacher's  re 
fined  sensibilities. 

"  Oh,  I  say,  Armstrong,  I'm  not  ready  to  go. 
Tea-time  at  Benvenewhas  peculiar  seductions," 
and  he  pointed  the  remark  by  a  smile  at  Nellie 
that  some  observers  might  have  called  frank 


PETER  WEAVER,  233 

and  kind  ;  others,  devilish.  So  much  depends 
upon  the  point  of  view.  Armstrong's  was  that 
of  the  harsher  criticism  ;  not  to  be  wondered 
at,  considering  the  difference  in  his  feelings  on 
entering  and  departing  from  Benvenewthat  day. 

"  I  am  not  aware  sir,  that  my  going  places 
any  constraint  upon  you,"  said  Armstrong  with 
the  most  distant  air  a  man  could  assume. 

Beesly  laughed.  What  defense  is  dignity 
against  a  laugh,  with  which  the  company,  ig 
norant  of  any  occult  meaning,  show  an  inclina 
tion  to  join,  moved  both  by  sympathy  with  the 
joker  and  the  polite  wish  to  smooth  over  a 
little  difficulty  between  two  guests  !  Armstrong 
realized  keenly  that  he  was  at  extreme  disad 
vantage,  since  the  animosity  that  he  felt  to 
ward  Beesly  could  not  be  explained  and  must 
bear  the  semblance  of  ill-temper.  That  it 
might  be  interpreted  as  jealousy  did  not  occur 
to  him.  It  was,  however,  natural  that  the 
women  should  take  this  view  of  it. 

Now,  Nellie,  with  all  her  good  and  sensible 
qualities,  had  one  little  foible.  She  was  not 


234  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

aware  of  it,  and,  indeed,  her  position  as  the 
recognized  beauty  of  the  county  was  so  certain 
to  develop  the  trait  in  any  young  woman  not 
altogether  an  angel,  that  she  is  excusable  for 
having  grown  just  a  little  bit  vain.  Hers  was 
not  the  vanity  of  dwelling  in  thought  upon  her 
own  attractions,  for,  in  moments  of  deliberate 
reflection,  she  was  given  to  a  humble  estimate 
of  herself ;  but  it  was  the  innocent,  childlike 
love  of  notice,  and  of  the  subtle  flattery  con 
veyed  in  being  sought  out  and  distinguished 
by  attention.  Maiden-like,  she  fled  to  corners, 
and  woman-like  there  was  pleasure  in  being 
followed.  The  boldest  admirer  was  likely 
then  to  gain  the  ear  of  modesty  that  had  this 
susceptible  spot  in  it. 

Beesly  was  wise  in  making  of  his  small,  act 
ive  person  a  very  bulwark  against  the  outer 
world ;  his  play  of  wit  so  filling  the  space  that 
the  girl  only  saw  dimly  what  was  going  on  out 
side  her  corner.  She  looked  up  to  find  the 
preacher's  fine  form  drawn  up  before  her.  He 
persisted  in  going.  His  somber  eyes  meant  to 


PETER   WEAVER.  235 

convey  to  her  that  this  was  something  more 
than  an  ordinary  good-by. 

The  ubiquitous  Beesly  gave  her  no  oppor 
tunity  to  realize  the  situation.  A  cool  clasp  of 
her  little  fingers,  a  bow,  and  Armstrong  was 
gone  from  the  room. 

Then  Beesly  sprang  up,  with  a  good-humored 
show  of  despair.  "  Plague  the  fellow  ! — if  he 
will  go,  I  must  tear  myself  away.  I  have  some 
thing  particular  to  say  to  him,  and  to-morrow 
I  start  for  Chicago.  I'll  be  back  in  a  week  or 
so,  though,  Cousin  Amanda,  and  you  can  order 
the  sally-lunn  then." 

He  shook  hands  all  around,  his  jolly,  hearty 
manner  contrasting  forcibly  with  the  serious 
ness  of  the  other,  and  departed,  leaving  a  track 
of  glittering  light  behind  him,  as  some  persons 
do.  What  matter  if  the  glitter  is  a  tinsel  clap 
trap  ?  Nonsense  helps  to  make  life  cheerful, 
and  a  jolly  good  fellow  is  especially  a  boon  in 
country  society. 

Mistress  Amanda  went  to  the  window  and 
began  dropping  the  muslin  curtains.  She  liked 


236  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

to  put  this  veil  between  the  outer  dusk  and 
the  fire-lit  room. 

"  Heigho !  "  she  yawned  ;  "  '  what  fools  these 
men  be.' " 

"Mortals,  mamma,  I  think,"  was  the  gentle 
correction  of  Nellie. 

Her  astonished  mother  stared.  "  What 
do  you  know  of  Shakespeare?"  she  ejacu 
lated. 

The  young  girl  blushed.  "  Papa  used  to 
read  to  us  in  the  evenings  sometimes.  Have 
you  forgotten,  mamma?  I  recollect  Midsum 
mer  Night's  Dream  very  well." 

Her  mother  spent  several  minutes  in  silent 
reflection,  studying  her  daughter.  "  I  don't 
know  that  I  understand  you  as  well  as  I 
thought  I  did,"  she  then  observed,  with  un 
usual  softness. 

Nellie  came  around  to  the  back  of  her  chair, 
putting  a  soft  hand  on  her  shoulder.  "  But 
you  love  me,  mamma?" 

"  Love  you  ?  "  Mistress  Amanda's  splendid 
eyes  grew  moist.  "  Yes,  dear,  I  love  you 


PETER   WEAVER.  237 

dearly.  All  the  good  that  can  come  to  me  in 
this  world  is  to  see  you  happy." 

"  That's  right,  Mandy,"  said  old  lady  Powell 
cheerily.  "  But  you's  young  enough,  child,  to 
see  a  heap  o'  satisfaction  on  yo'  own  account, 
yit." 

A  little  negro  boy,  sprawling  on  the  floor  of 
his  mammy's  cabin,  and  rubbing  his  back  as  he 
could  reach  it,  might  have  told  Mr.  Beesly 
something  about  the  paces  of  the  mare,  Stella, 
which  that  gentleman  was  trying  to  catch  up 
with.  A  start  of  five  minutes  was  too  much  in 
Stella's  favor,  if  her  master  had  intended  flight 
from  his  persistent  acquaintance.  When  the 
little  man  swung  himself  into  his  saddle,  and 
looked  here  and  there  and  everywhere  in  the 
fast-gathering  dusk  for  the  sight  of  a  horseman 
in  the  road  ahead,  there  was  nothing  whatever 
to  be  seen. 

Beesly  was  a  a  poor  rider,  on  a  strange,  bor 
rowed  horse,  and  the  country  was  unfamiliar  to 
him.  Twenty  paces  from  Benvenew  the  road 
forked,  and  the  commercial  traveler  had  not 


238  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

the  slightest  idea  which  path  to  take.  Invok 
ing  good  luck,  he  took  the  one  to  the  left.  It 
went  past  a  farm-house  or  two,  where  the 
hungry  fellow  saw  lights  twinkling  in  kitchens, 
and  smelled — in  imagination — the  odor  of 
squirrel-stew  and  corn-pone.  After  this  he 
passed  the  old  mill,  and  the  outlook  grew  less 
promising. 

"  A  plague  upon  him  ! "  cried  the  baffled 
pursuer.  "  I  didn't  think  Armstrong  was  the 
man  to  run  away.  What  did  he  take  me  for, 
anyway  ?  " 

Darkness  comes  rapidly  in  these  mountains. 
Beesly  found  himself  skirmishing  around  in  a 
curiously  eccentric  style,  and  the  certainty  that 
he  was  entirely  astray  gained  his  slow  credence. 
He  was  not  fortified  by  a  good  meal,  either,  to 
enjoy  the  cool  night  breeze  that  began  to  play 
through  his  light  summer  suit. 

"  Get  along !  Go  somewhere,  I  don't  care 
where,  so  it  leads  to  supper!  "  he  apostrophized 
the  horse,  and  that  animal,  left  to  his  own  judg 
ment,  bethought  himself  of  a  certain  hospitable 


PETER  WEAVER.  239 

stable  where  more  than  once  he  had  had  a  good 
meal  when  business  led  him  in  the  direction  of 
its  owner.  So,  taking  a  start,  he  cantered  along 
the  road  at  a  very  creditable  pace,  and  paused 
of  his  own  accord  in  front  of  Peter  Weaver's 
gate. 

The  front  windows  of  Peter's  cottage  were 
wide  open,  and  Beesly  had  a  view  of  a  big 
man  in  his  shirt-sleeves  going  around  a  well-lit 
room,  holding  a  book  in  his  hand,  and  singing 
at  the  top  of  an  exceedingly  powerful  voice. 

"  Hallo  !  Hallo  in  there  !  "  shouted  Beesly 's 
thin  falsetto,  and  presently  it  dawned  upon 
Peter's  comprehension  that  somebody  outside 
was  trying  to  make  himself  heard.  He  came 
to  the  door,  holding  a  lamp  high  above  his 
head,  the  light  casting  into  relief  his  ruddy  face 
and  Titan-like  frame. 

"  A  handsome  fellow,  by  heaven  ! "  thought 
the  drummer,  who  never  lost  a  picturesque  fea 
ture. 

"  Can  a  gentleman  who  has  lost  his  way  beg 
the  favor  of  an  hour's  rest  and  a  bit  of  sup 


240  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

per?"  he  sang  out  toward  the  Titan,  who  re 
sponded  with  a  hearty : 

"  Sartain,  sir !  And  most  welcome.  'Light 
and  come  right  in.  I'll  send  a  nigger  after 
your  horse." 

,  "  I'm  a  distant  cousin  of  Mistress  Amanda, 
up  to  Benvenew,"  said  Beesly,  as  he  entered 
the  cottage  and  proceeded  to  make  himself  at 
home  in  his  usual  easy  fashion.  "  I  insisted  on 
leaving  there  before  supper,  and  have  been 
properly  punished  by  losing  my  way." 

"  Cousin  to  Mistress  Amanda  ?  That  gives 
you  a  claim  on  me,  sir,  to  any  extent,"  said 
Peter,  throwing  a  log  on  the  fire,  and  calling 
out  the  back  door  to  his  cook  to  hurry  up  sup 
per. 

"  You  see,  sir,"  he  continued,  "  living  all  by 
myself  here  I've  fallen  into  the  way  of  kind  o' 
having  meals  at  any  hour  I  like,  and  supper's 
ruther  put  back  to-night.  I'm  glad  it's  so,  as 
I've  the  good  fortune  to  have  yo'  company." 

"  Why,  I  had  an  idea  that  I  might  take  sup 
per  along  with  your  preacher  here,  Mr.  Miles, 


PETER   WEAVER.  241 

Armstrong,  but  if  you'll  believe  me,  he  went  off 
and  left  me  in  the  lurch,  although  I  had  some 
thing  very  particular  to  say  to  him." 

"  Possible  !  "  ejaculated  Peter,  his  face  be 
coming  thoughtful. 

Loquaciousness  was  Beesly's  prime  vice. 
He  felt  himself  aggrieved  in  this  instance,  and, 
convinced  by  the  appearance  of  a  bountiful 
supper  that  his  host  was  a  good  fellow,  and  en 
titled  to  confidence,  he  poured  out  a  tale  that 
had  the  unintended  effect  of  impairing  Peter's 
appetite. 

"  You  see — it's  this  way.  Three  years  back 
now — Armstrong  was  a  minor,  anyway,  and 
not  responsible  for  the  money  if  he  chose  to 
put  it  that  way.  But  he  put  a  bet  on  Belle 
Noir — a  pretty  big  bet — we  fellows  sort  o' 
goaded  him  to  it, — and  he  lost.  Plumb  five 
hundred  dollars  he  lost,  sir  !  And  if  you'll  be 
lieve  me,  he  wrote  a  letter  to  Keats — Keats 
backed  Charlie  Boy — saying  he  had  no  mind 
to  ask  his  governor  for  the  money,  that  betting 
was  against  his  conscience,  anyway,  but  that,  as 


242  SO  UTHERN  HEA  R  TS. 

his  honor  demanded  that  he  pay  up,  he  earn 
estly  requested  for  time  to  do  it  in.  Well, 
Keats  said  he'd  give  him  time.  He  was  going 
abroad  and  he'd  give  him  till  he  came  back. 
Now,  sir,  that  was  three  years  ago,  and  Arm 
strong's  never  given  a  sign.  I  met  Keats  in 
New  York  last  week,  and  he  said  he  meant  to 
come  down  here  and  see  Armstrong.  He  says 
he  hates  a  sneak.  That's  what  I  meant  to  tell 
Armstrong  to-night  ;  that  Keats  is  coming 
here.  You  see,  nobody  knows  a  word  about  it 
but  us  three.  By  the  bye,  I  guess  you'd  better 
not  mention  it.  I  don't  want  to  make  trouble." 

"You  certainly  have  astounded  me,  sir," 
affirmed  Peter  Weaver.  "  Mr.  Armstrong's  the 
very  last  person  I'd  have  suspected  of  ever  get 
ting  into  such  a  box  as  this.  And  five  hun 
dred  dollars,  too.  That's  a  mighty  big  lot  of 
money  to  throw  away." 

"  If  he's  saving  up  his  salary  to  pay  it  it'll 
take  him  rather  awhile  to  get  it  together," 
grinned  Beesly.  "  What  does  he  get  for  preach- 
ing?" 


PETER   WEAVER.  243 

"  We  pay  our  preacher  two  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars  a  year,  sir.  And  perquisites,"  he 
added,  as  the  drummer  gave  a  significant 
whistle.  "  There  are  perquisites — there'd  be 
more  if  he  got  married  " — 

"  Perhaps  he  will  before  long.  There  are 
pretty  gals  down  here.  Cousin  Amanda's  girl 
is  a  thundering  beauty.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if 
Armstrong  had  got  his  eyes  set  that  way. 
Little  mite  strait-laced,  though,  is  Nellie. 
By  George,  what'd  she  say  if  she  knew  the 
preacher  used  to  bet  on  horses?  Reformed, 
didn't  he  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Armstrong's  said  to  have  experienced 
sanctification,"  said  Peter,  slowly. 

"  Oh,  come,  now,  that's  too  good,"  shouted 
the  commercial  traveler. 

"  There  may  be  such  a  thing ;  I'm  called 
skeptical  myself.  But  whether  there  is  or  not, 
there's  goodness.  And  for  my  part,  I  believe 
Mr.  Armstrong's  an  upright,  moral,  well-mean 
ing  man,  and  it's  the  duty  of  his  friends  to 
stand  by  him,"  said  Peter  Weaver.  But  deep 


2  44  ^0  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

down  in  his  heart  was  a  cry.  The  preacher  was, 
then,  in  love  with  Nellie  :  did  Nellie  love  the 
preacher  ? 

VI. 

THE  hardest  thing  in  the  world  to  bear  is 
self-contempt.  The  man  or  woman  who  has 
once  slipped  from  his  own  standard  of  rectitude 
— whatever  it  is — has  henceforth  in  his  soul  a 
little  Inferno  where  desperate  desire  is  continu 
ally  carrying  a  huge  stone  up  a  hill  and  memory 
is  as  continually  rolling  it  down  again. 

Armstrong's  thoughts  shaped  themselves 
into  some  such  words  as  these  as  he  galloped 
out  from  Benvenew.  He  was  not  running  from 
Beesly  through  any  cowardly  impulse  ;  but  be 
cause  he  wanted  to  think  the  matter  all  out, 
alone.  The  moment  he  had  laid  eyes  on  the 
fellow  he  knew  that  the  thing  he  had  been 
fighting  down  so  long,  overlaying  by  a  structure 
of  self-denial  and  good  deeds,  had  come  up 
permost  in  the  foreground  of  his  life,  and  must 


PETER   WEAVER.  245 

be  faced  as  a  sin  freshly  committed,  because  to 
the  present  hour  concealed.  The  young  man 
had  a  strong  nature,  proud  and  tender ;  a  little 
one-sided  in  its  development,  and  the  more 
likely  to  cut  out  intense  suffering  for  itself 
through  the  aid  of  imagination.  When  con 
science  lashed  he  had  no  instinct  to  shrink 
away  and  make  excuse ;  instead,  he  cried 
"  Peccavi !  "  feeling  that  he  deserved  the  more 
because  no  one  but  himself  knew  that  he  de 
served  it.  Herein,  although  circumstances  may 
have  made  it  appear  that  he  was  nearly,  if  not 
quite,  a  hypocrite,  Miles  Armstrong  proved 
himself  none,  for  he  felt  that  the  worst  of  a 
sin  was  in  its  commission,  not  in  the  fact  of  its 
being  made  public.  It  would  have  been  a  re 
lief  to  him  all  along  if  that  gambling  experi 
ence  in  his  past,  when,  for  a  brief  space  he  had 
sowed  wild  oats,  could  have  been  known  to  all 
the  world ;  then  he  might  have  shouldered 
blame,  lived  the  matter  down,  and  started 
afresh,  with  a  clear  page  for  the  future.  But 
expediency  had  been  his  counselor.  She  had 


246  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

whispered  that  his  usefulness  would  be  im 
paired  if  he  let  himself  appear  as  a  common 
youth ;  a  preacher  should  be  in  a  certain  sense, 
immaculate  ;  his  faults  and  follies  were  between 
himself  and  his  conscience.  What  he //<?</  been 
was  not  the  world's  business  ;  only  what  he 
was  now. 

And  so  Armstrong  had  concealed  his  fault 
and  gone  on  trying  to  forget  it,  but  never  able 
to  do  so,  until,  between  looking  on  the  picture 
of  what  he  was  believed  to  be,  and  what  he 
was  in  his  own  knowledge  of  himself,  the  great 
contrast  took  the  form  of  an  accusation  that 
made  him  out — liar  :  of  all  things  the  meanest 
and  most  despicable  when  the  lie  is  one  which 
assumes  the  appearance  of  a  virtue  that  a  man 
has  not. 

To  the  sky  the  young  preacher  turned  his 
face,  worn  in  a  few  hours  to  the  sharp  outlines 
of  pain,  and  in  the  dusk  and  loneliness  of  that 
mountain  path,  over  which  Stella  was  swiftly 
bearing  him  home,  he  made  a  vow  in  his  heart 
that  from  this  hour  he  would  cease  to  be  the 


PETER   WEAVEk  247 

slave  of  the  Lie.  He  would  descend,  before 
the  eyes  of  men  and  women,  into  the  valley 
of  humiliation,  that  he  might  emerge  a  free 
soul,  even  if  he  must  in  consequence  go  on 
with  his  life  stripped  of  all  that  made  it  pleasant 
and  useful. 

And  then  Miles,  lifting  his  hat  as  if  bidding 
farewell  to  something  beloved,  rode  calmly  on 
to  Roselawn. 

Again,  the  little  church  beside  Sneaking 
Creek  was  crowded  as  upon  the  Sunday  the 
young  preacher  had  given  his  first  sermon. 
Some  indefinite  rumor  had  got  abroad  of  a 
surprise  in  store  for  the  congregation  ;  how 
started  it  would  be  difficult  to  say,  and  nobody 
had  the  slightest  idea  of  what  he  expected ; 
only  there  was  an  atmosphere  of  expectancy. 

All  the  Armstrong  family  were  at  church, 
the  Judge  resplendent  with  a  purple  necktie, 
and  his  wife  in  a  purple  silk  ;  the  girls,  as 
usual,  attired  with  taste  and  at  considerable  ex 
pense.  Mistress  Amanda  and  her  mother  were 
in  their  pew,  with  Nellie  between  them,  charm 


2  48  SO  UTHERN.  HEA  R  TS. 

ing  as  the  spirit  of  October,  in  a  carefully 
turned  claret-colored  poplin  and  a  toque 
trimmed  with  autumn  leaves.  And  Peter 
Weaver  was  there ;  with  a  dubious  expression, 
and  very  sore  in  mind ;  wishing  to  believe  the 
best  of  people  under  adverse  circumstances,  and 
nobly  ready  to  put  himself  out  of  the  question 
if  he  must  do  so  to  make  little  Nellie  happy. 

There  was  a  peculiar  stillness  as  Armstrong 
arose  after  the  hymn  that  heralded  the  sermon. 
The  young  man's  pale,  tense  look  produced  a 
general  sensation  of  anxiety.  Some  good 
mothers  in  Israel  were  for  handing  him  up 
their  smelling  salts.  Girls  scrutinized  his  fea 
tures  with  their  mouths  falling  apart,  wondering 
what  dreadful  thing  had  happened  to  him  to 
make  his  lips  so  set  and  his  eyes  so  deep  and 
black.  But  all  turned  their  faces  toward  him 
with  the  sure  response  of  sympathy  toward 
unaffected  feeling. 

"  My  people  !  " 

The  words  were  those  of  an  old  minister, 
grown  gray  in  service  among  loved  friends ; 


PETER  WEAVER.  249 

but  they  came  earnest  and  unstudied  from  the 
heart  of  the  young  preacher.  Hearts  thrilled 
to  him,  answering  the  strangely  sweet  appeal 
that  breathed  through  the  notes  of  that  fine 
voice,  always  beautiful  in  its  modulations,  but 
to-day  with  a  new  quality  that  won  without  his 
hearers  knowing  why. 

"  You  have  come  for  a  sermon,"  Armstrong 
went  on.  "  I  have  no  sermon  to  give  you. 
When  you  elected  me  to  serve  as  the  minister 
of  this  church  I  had  joy  in  taking  the  place  you 
gave  me.  I  love  the  work.  At  this  instant, 
when  I  am  about  to  give  it  up,  every  fibre  of 
my  nature  clings  to  it,  my  heart  and  my  mind 
as  well.  Yet  I  must  give  it  up.  I  am  not 
worthy  to  be  your  minister ;  nor  now,  to  be  a 
minister  at  all.  And  the  reason  is  this.  Some 
time  ago,  before  I  was  ordained,  I  was  for  a 
season  given  over  to  ungodliness.  I  fell  into 
one  sin  that  by  heaven's  grace  did  not  lead  to 
worse,  as  it  might  have  done.  It  was  not  a 
thing  most  of  you  would  call  very  bad  " — the 
proud  Armstrong  blood  made  the  speaker's 


250  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

head  rear  slightly.  He  felt  his  father's  angry 
eyes  upon  him  and  even  imagined  he  heard 
the  word  "  fool  "  ;  but  he  sternly  went  on  : 

"  We  southerners  are  too  apt  to  look  with 
indulgence  upon  social  sins.  Horse-racing  and 
gambling  are  things  you  might  consider  excu 
sable  in  a  young  man,  even  in  one  meaning  to 
be  a  minister.  These  were  my  failings.  I 
don't  exaggerate  them  so  much  as  to  say  that 
because  I  did  these  things  I  am  unfit  to  serve 
as  your  minister.  No  ;  it  is  not  that." 

A  deep  breath  labored  through  his  lungs, 
and  the  many  staring  eyes  in  front  of  him  all 
seemed  to  swim  together  and  take  on  the  form 
of  a  question.  What  was  it,  then  ?  What  was 
to  come? 

"  The  first  duty  of  any  soul  is  to  be  thor 
oughly  honest,"  continued  the  young  preacher. 
"  He  who  glosses  over  his  own  faults  and  acts 
as  if  he  had  a  guiltless  past  behind  him  helps 
to  spread  the  fell  disease  of  deceit  and  hypoc 
risy  ;  the  great  pest  of  our  times.  And  of  this 
baseness  I  have  been  guilty.  I  let  it  be  sup- 


PETER  WEAVER.  251 

posed  that  I  had  experienced  sanctification.  I 
came  before  you  unconfessed  and  with  a  sem 
blance  of  uprightness  it  was  not  my  privilege 
to  claim.  All  men  are  sinners,  and  it  is  the 
nature  of  some  not  to  feel  their  sins  acutely ; 
they  can  go  about  with  light  hearts,  never 
aware  of  the  yoke  a  Christian  should  bear. 
But  others  are  different.  Every  man  accord 
ing  to  his  nature.  We  can  only  be  guided  by 
the  light  within.  But  wo  to  that  man  who 
wilfully  shuts  his  eyes  to  the  revelation  of  his 
own  conscience !  St.  Paul  felt  the  weight  of 
his  sins  upon  his  soul  and  bravely  cried  out,  '  I 
am  the  chief  of  sinners  ! '  He  made  the  world 
eee  him  just  as  he  was,  not  pretending  good 
ness  that  did  not  belong  to  him.  This  is  the 
right  thing  to  do  ;  above  all,  the  right  and 
only  thing  for  a  teacher  of  men  to  do.  I  have 
always  felt  this,  and  have  acted  contrary  to  my 
convictions.  I  have  lived  a  lie  before  you. 
Now,  for  the  first  time  you  see  me  as  I  am  and 
know  that  I  am  not  what  you  thought  me.  It 
is  the  just  punishment  of  one  who  '  knows  the 


252  SO  UTHERN  HEA  R  TS. 

right  and  chooses  the  wrong,'  to  lose  all  he  has 
sought  to  gain.  I  lose  what  I  value  most  in 
giving  up  my  privilege  of  usefulness  among 
you.  But  it  is  my  duty  to  do  this,  and  I  dare 
not  shrink  from  it  because  it  is  hard." 

Soldiers  know  that  valor  is  born  in  the  heat 
of  strife,  called  out  by  the  sight  of  waving  ban 
ners,  the  note  of  bugles,  and  the  feeling  of  a 
great  mass  rushing  all  together  against  a  foe. 
A  far  greater  effort  of  courage  is  made  by 
the  man  who  deliberately  stands  up  before  his 
friends  and  makes  a  confession  that  may  in  an 
instant  turn  their  esteem  to  contempt,  and 
leave  him  alone  and  defenseless  among  a  host 
of  accusers.  In  making  his  supreme  effort 
Armstrong  had  not  been  blind  to  this  probable 
result.  His  imagination  had  vividly  pictured 
the  moment  of  his  humiliation.  Nerved  to 
carry  the  thing  through,  his  voice  uttered  the 
final  word  without  a  falter.  Then,  stepping 
back,  he  sat  down. 

Every  sort  of  confusion  prevailed.  The 
general  feeling  was  that  of  excitement  and  as- 


PETER  WEAVER.  353 

tonishment,  especially  among  the  younger  set. 
Very  few  were  able  to  appreciate  the  strange 
manifestation  of  moral  greatness  that  had  been 
made  before  them;  and  with  these  the  uppermost 
sensation  was  that  of  awkwardness.  Bluff  old 
farmers  had  grown  red  and  uneasy,  aware  that 
their  young  preacher  had  climbed  to  a  height 
where  they  could  not  approach  him.  They 
shuffled  their  feet  and  looked  down.  The 
women  whispered  ;  some  tittered  hysterically. 
One  got  up  and  crossed  the  church  to  say 
something  to  a  friend.  It  was  the  signal  for  a 
general  movement,  and  in  a  few  moments 
nearly  everybody  had  changed  their  places. 
Armstrong,  with  his  fingers  over  his  closed  eyes, 
saw  nothing,  but  he  felt  terrible  vibrations  in 
his  brain.  He  was  alone ;  deserted.  In  a 
single  moment  of  suffering  years  can  be  com 
pressed,  and  a  sensitive  nature  grows  old  fast. 
There  was  a  light  touch  upon  his  arm,  a  touch 
that  thrilled  him  through  and  through.  He 
looked,  and  standing  beside  him  was  beautiful 
Nellie ;  shy,  shrinking  Nellie,  always  dreading 


254  so  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

any  conspicuous  position,  and  wont  to  hide  be 
hind  her  mother's  ample  shadow.  She  was  upon 
the  platform,  holding  out  her  small,  ungloved 
hand,  her  eyes  shining  through  tears,  her  cheeks 
flushed  rosy  red  ;  forgetful  of  shyness,  all 
thought  of  self  lost  in  the  outburst  of  sympathy 
and  reverence  that  had  led  her  feet  straight  to 
him  her  heart  called  lover,  leader  and  highest 
among  men. 

The  young  preacher's  sunken  eyes  gleamed 
with  a  new,  wonderful  hope.  They  devoured 
the  sweet  face.  Her  hand  was  caught  and 
held,  pressed  hard  while  he  whispered,  "  Nellie, 
love  !  "  and  then,  mindful  of  the  staring  peo. 
pie,  Armstrong  would  have  swept  her  quickly 
back,  but  the  young  girl  felt  to  her  very  finger 
tips  the  sense  of  that  great  stare.  Her  head 
dropped,  her  form  trembled,  the  roses  in  her 
cheeks  turned  to  fire,  and  shrinking,  faltering,  on 
the  verge  of  a  burst  of  weeping,  she  turned  and 
hid  her  face  on  the  young  preacher's  breast ! 

Scarcely  a  second  was  given  to  the  people  to 
take  this  sight  in  before  Peter  Weaver's  huge 


PETER  WEAVER. 


255 


form  towered  on  the  platform  in  front  of  the 
young  pair.  He  had  hastened,  almost  leaped 
up  the  steps,  and  behind  him  Nellie  fled  to  the 
little  door  at  the  side  of  the  platform  and  so 
out  from  the  church.  One  great  throb  of  pain 
had  Peter's  heart  given  at  sight  of  Nellie  on 
Armstrong's  breast,  one  strong,  silent  effort  of 
renunciation  of  a  lifetime's  hopes  he  made,  and 
then  self  was  put  behind  him,  for  good  and  all. 
He  had  a  duty  to  perform,  and  he  did  it  with 
his  might. 

"  I  want  to  say  a  word  or  two !  "  his  great 
voice  sang  out,  silencing  the  clamor  and  con 
fusion  in  another  thrill  of  curiosity. 

"  I  ain't  a  speaker,  as  you  all  know " 

A  comment  from  the  rear  chimed  in,  "You're 
a  poet !  "  It  was  Penny  Haywood,  and  Violet 
Armstrong,  hanging  upon  his  arm,  quickly 
forced  him  to  be  silent. 

"  But  there  air  facts  in  nature  that  speak  for 
themselves,  and  don't  require  eloquent  speech- 
making  to  get  people  to  understand  'em.  One 
of  these  facts  is  a  good  man.  There  are  lots  of 


256  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

good  women — God  bless  'em! — and  some  pretty 
good  men  in  an  all  'round  way.  But  the  rarest 
thing  on  all  of  God's  earth  is  a  thoroughly  good, 
honest  man ;  one  whose  acts  air  as  transparent 
as  daylight,  thai;  stands  up  before  his  fellows 
clean  and  sound,  and  dares  to  father  everything 
he  has  ever  done  in  his  life,  without  shamming 
or  palliating  anything.  You  know  it  was  this 
kind  of  an  honest  man  that  old  Diogenes  went 
'round  seeking  with  a  lantern  and  couldn't  find. 
Well,  if  he'd  come  seeking  him  in  Fauquier 
County,  Virginia,  he'd  have  found  him  right 
here  in  the  Second  Baptist  church,  and  his 
name's  Miles  Armstrong!" 

"Good !"  pronounced  a  woman's  voice ;  Miss 
Lavinia  Powell,  not  afraid  to  speak  her  mind, 
and  esteeming  it  a  rare  privilege  to  assent  to  a 
man's  common-sense. 

"I  consider,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  that  we've 
had  here  before  us  to-day  an  exhibition  of  high 
and  fine  moral  feeling  that  ought  to  be  a  lesson 
to  us  all  our  lives.  And  as  for  the  modesty  of 
the  man  that's  given  it,  and  his  idea  of  being 


PETER  WEAVER.  257 

unworthy  to  go  on  preaching  to  us  and  all  that, 
why,  I  say — I  say  that  there  ain't  another  as 
worthy  one  to  be  found  anywhere,  and  if  you're 
of  my  mind,  we'll  go  right  on  having  Mr.  Miles 
Armstrong  preach  to  us  as  long  as  he  lives ! 
And  what's  more,"  shouted  Peter,  while  he  un 
necessarily  reared  himself  a-tip-toe,  "  I'm  darned 
if  I  think  it'll  hurt  the  church  a  bit  if,  to  crown 
this  occasion,  you  all  join  in  a  cheer  of  good-will 
to  our  preacher,  Mr.  Miles  Armstrong  and  Miss 
Nellie  Thomas,  his  wife — that's-to-be  !  " 

Then  there  was  laughing  and  acclamation, 
and  crowding  toward  the  platform,  and  the 
young  preacher's  hand  was  seized  and  wrung 
until  his  fingers  ached,  and  his  bewildered  brain 
ceased  to  think  at  all,  but  left  him  altogether 
at  the  mercy  of  his  friends,  who  nearly  tore  him 
to  pieces  in  their  zeal. 

Peter  Weaver  for  once  asserted  himself  and 
claimed  the  privilege  of  driving  the  young 
preacher  to  Benvenew — where  he  was  panting  to 
go  after  Nellie — in  his  own  high  top  buggy. 
He  had  something  to  say  in  private. 
17 


258  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS. 

"  It's  this,"  said  Peter,  laying  his  broad  hand 
earnestly  on  the  young  man's  knee,  when  they 
were  well  along  on  the  road  and  no  one  was 
near.  "  I  knew  about  the  thing  you've  been 
taking  so  hard,  before  you  told  of  it  to-day. 
Beesly  told  me.  Now,  my  dear  sir,  you  want 
money.  You  don't  want  to  ask  your  father  for 
it.  No  need.  You've  done  enough.  Let  me 
help  you  out  o'  this  leetle  scrape.  I've  more 
money  than  I  know  what  to  do  with.  I've  got 
five  hundred  dollars  right  here,  in  this  little 
roll,  and  I  want  you  to  take  it.  Not  as  a  loan  ; 
as  a  gift.  Do,  now !  " 

Armstrong  protested,  thanked  him  with  no 
lack  of  warmest  gratitude,  but  absolutely  re 
fused.  His  father  was  rich,  he  said,  and  would 
help  him.  His  road  was  easy  before  him  now, 
easier  than  he  deserved.  All  Peter  could  think 
of  to  console  himself  was  that  he  would  buy 
Nellie  a  wedding  present  with  the  money. 

Shame-faced  little  Nellie,  hiding  behind  the 
parlor  curtains,  longing  for  Armstrong,  and 
fearing  to  have  him  come !  How  quickly  he 


PETER   WEAVER.  259 

found  her  and  carried  her  triumphantly  to  that 
distant  corner  where  a  great  black  horse-hair 
sofa  swallowed  them  up ;  the  worn  horse-hair 
so  slippery  that  he  had  to  put  his  arm  around 
her  to  hold  her  on. 

Mistress  Amanda  was  a  dumfounded  wo 
man.  So  swiftly  and  suddenly  had  come  the 
surprises  of  that  morning  that  all  she  could  do 
was  to  contemplate  her  daughter  from  a  dis 
tance,  and  say  "  Well !  "  in  a  tone  that  meant 
resignation  to  circumstances. 

But  she  had  had  her  proud  moment.  Her 
heart — warm  and  true  yet  after  bitter  life-ex 
periences — had  leaped  with  delight  when  Peter 
Weaver  made  the  little  speech  that  with  her 
knowledge  of  him,  showed  him  a  hero,  capable 
of  the  most  generous  sacrifice  it  is  within  the 
power  of  a  man  to  make.  "  Hero,"  she  called 
him,  to  honest  Peter's  immense  confusion,  as 
they  sat  sedately  in  two  armchairs  before  the 
fire,  with  their  backs  to  the  young  couple  in  the 
far  corner  of  the  spacious  room  ;  talking  over 
the  details  of  the  great  occurrence. 


260  SOUTHERN  HEARTS. 

"  For  such  a  sensible  woman  you  air  given  to 
making  too  much  of  the  little  things  men  do 
that  air  right  to  do,"  said  Peter,  smiling. 

"So  few  men  do  the  little  things  that  are 
right,"  sighed  Mistress  Amanda,  looking  at  her 
own  past  in  the  bed  of  fire.  "  You  are  the  only 
man  I  know,  Peter,  that  I  would  put  a  heavy 
stake  on  to  take  the  straight  course  every 
time." 

"  What,  leave  out  Armstrong  ? "  remon 
strated  Peter,  with  a  jerk  of  his  head  backward 

toward  the  corner. 

• 

"Armstrong  has  come  upon  me  too  sud 
denly,"  complained  Mistress  Amanda.  Then, 
with  the  generosity  of  a  candid  nature  she  paid 
rightful  tribute  to  what  commanded  her  ad 
miration. 

"  He  is  certainly  an  excellent  young  man," 
she  said.  "  A  noble  fellow.  I've  thought  of 
him  more  than  once  as  you  spoke  of  him  in  that 
speech  of  yours, — '  the  man  Diogenes  sought !  ' 
I  trust  he  will  make  my  little  Nellie  happy." 

"  She  has  that  within  her  that  ensures  hap- 


PETER  WEAVER  261 

piness,"  said  Peter  steadily.  "  The  sweetest, 
soundest  heart  ever  a  woman  had.  Heaven 
bless  her ! " 

Mistress  Amanda  softly  stretched  out  her 
firm,  shapely  hand,  and  laid  it  on  his  own  as 
it  rested  on  the  arm  of  the  chair.  It  was  a 
friendly,  sympathetic  touch.  Perhaps  un 
awares,  something  more  went  into  it  than  she 
intended. 

Peter  looked  at  her  with  great  kindness. 

"  You  and  me  air  getting  to  be  middle-aged 
people,  Amanda,"  he  said.  "  The  chief  thing 
now  is  for  us  to  make  the  young  people  happy." 

But  old  lady  Powell,  apparently  dozing  in  her 
chair  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire  was  build 
ing  a  double  air-castle.  She  said  to  herself 
that  Peter's  little  green  cottage  would  suit  the 
young  preacher  and  his  bride  very  well,  if  its 
master  should  come  to  Benvenew  to  live. 
Nothing  was  more  likely.  And  Amanda  and 
Peter  would  just  hit  it  off  together.  Every 
body  could  see  that.  It  was  perfectly  plain. 


A    HALT    AT    DAWN 


A  HALT  AT  DAWN* 


MARGARET  DANVERS  stepped  aboard  the 
southern-bound  sleeper  at  Chicago  one  stormy 
March  evening,  and  as  she  walked  composedly 
to  her  berth  in  the  middle  of  the  car,  the  eyes 
of  every  person  present  were  riveted  upon  her. 
She  wore  a  closely  fitting  garment  of  Russian 
sable,  which  enveloped  her  completely,  and  a 
large  beaver  hat  with  drooping  plumes,  and 
from  the  single  fine  diamond  flashing  at  her 
throat  to  the  tips  of  her  dainty  Su6de  boots  she 
looked  the  model  of  a  fashionable  beauty.  She 
was  the  only  woman  on  the  car,  and  before  she 
had  fairly  settled  herself  comfortably,  all  the 
men  had  mentally  pronounced  their  opinion  of 
her  looks  and  style,  and  hazarded  a  conjecture 
as  to  her  age.  Her  attendant,  a  florid  man  of 
middle  age,  received  the  slight  degree  of  atten- 

1  Copyright,  1893,  by  Romance  Publishing  Co. 

265 


266  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

tion  justified  by  his  seeming  only  an  adjunct  of 
the  moment.  As  he  left  her,  he  put  into  her 
hands  a  bunch  of  costly  roses,  which  she  re 
ceived  with  a  smile  and  laid  upon  the  opposite 
seat  the  instant  he  was  gone. 

Of  the  score  of  passengers,  two  or  three 
knew  her  by  sight,  for  she  was,  in  a  way,  a  pub 
lic  character,  but,  as  it  happened,  none  were 
really  acquainted  with  her,  and  before  long 
even  those  most  deeply  interested  in  her  ap 
pearance  yielded  to  the  apathy  peculiar  to 
sleeping-cars,  and  subsided  into  their  newspa 
pers  or  their  rugs,  preparing  to  wear  out  the 
evening  until  bedtime. 

Margaret  amused  herself  in  watching  the  fly 
ing  snow  and  in  reverie.  Too  used  to  traveling 
to  even  care  to  look  about  her,  she  yielded  to  the 
prevailing  somnambulistic  influence  just  enough 
to  dream  without  sleeping.  At  first  there 
was  in  her  mind  a  confusion  of  events  past,  pres 
ent,  and  to  come.  Incidents  of  no  importance 
mingled  with  greater  ones,  and  her  reflections 
became  mixed  with  little  fanciful  suggestions 


A  HALT  AT  DAWN  267 

of  things  long  since  forgotten,  or,  rather,  vol 
untarily  put  out  of  mind.  She  tried  to  think 
of  her  career,  to  recall  her  triumphs,  and  to 
dwell  upon  the  possibilities  of  the  future.  She 
told  herself  that  music  was  her  life,  that  all  she 
had  to  do  with  was  the  beautiful  and  the  divine 
in  art,  and  that  the  everyday  existence  she  had 
struggled  to  rise  above  was  henceforth  nothing 
more  than  an  unpleasant  memory. 

At  twenty-eight  she  was  her  own  mistress, 
earning  an  independent  income  through  the 
use  of  her  beautiful  voice.  The  teaching  days 
and  the  drudgery  of  the  class-room  had  passed, 
and  as  a  concert  singer  she  was  favorably  known 
in  more  than  one  western  city  noted  for  its 
critical  taste.  After  a  successful  winter  in  Mil 
waukee  and  Chicago,  she  was  now  upon  her  way 
to  fulfil  an  engagement  in  Baltimore,  which 
promised  more  than  anything  in  which  she  had 
yet  engaged.  She  was  in  the  heyday  of  her 
powers,  admired,  in  radiant  health,  conscious 
of  her  beauty  and  talent,  and  entirely  satisfied 
with  life.  What  did  it  mean  that,  as  she  looked 


268  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

from  the  window  with  a  proud  smile  upon  her 
lips,  some  tantalizing  thoughts  should  intrude 
themselves,  and  the  mind  so  entirely  self-poised 
should  feel,  for  the  first  time  in  years,  the 
weakening  influence  of  some  emotional  fancies? 
It  was  her  boast  that  she  was  never  lonely, 
never  sad,  that  her  whole  heart  was  in  the 
work 

The  conductor  passed  through  taking  tickets, 
and  brought  her  back  to  the  present.  And 
after  this  came  the  little  stir  of  the  porter  mak 
ing  up  the  berths,  and  she  moved  to  the  end 
of  the  car.  In  front  two  men  were  talking. 

"  Never  saw  a  promise  of  a  worse  storm," 
said  one.  "  Shouldn't  wonder  if  the  tracks 
were  blocked  a  little  ahead." 

"  Comes  from  the  southwest,"  suggested  the 
other.  "  If  necessary,  they'll  put  on  another 
locomotive.  We're  bound  to  get  through  at 
any  rate  on  this  train  ;  that's  one  comfort." 

By  nine  o'clock  Margaret,  enveloped  in  a 
downy  wrapper  of  dark  red,  lay  courting  sleep 
in  her  section.  Over  her  was  spread  the  fur 


A  HALT  AT  DAWN  269 

ulster,  none  too  warm  above  the  blankets,  even 
for  her  warm  blood.  The  thermometer  outside 
would  have  registered  zero,  and  whiffs  of  icy 
air  found  their  way  every  now  and  then  into 
the  car.  Everything  was  quiet  save  her 
thoughts,  which  began  to  utter  themselves  with 
loud,  importunate  voices,  as  if  answering  some 
call  without,  independent  of  her  control.  "  I 
have  happily  been  able  to  say  all  my  life  that 
I  didn't  know  what  nerves  were,"  said  Margaret 
to  herself,  "  but  I  begin  to  think  that  from  some 
inexplicable  cause  I  am  nervous." 

"  Richard  Allen  ! "  She  started  as  if  the 
words  had  been  spoken  in  her  ear.  Swiftly 
memory  flew  back  ten  years,  and  she  saw  her 
self  standing  bareheaded  at  the  gate  of  her 
father's  house  in  dear  old  Leesburg,  Virginia, 
where  her  childhood  had  been  passed ;  and  be 
side  her,  bending  tenderly  to  catch  her  lightest 
word,  the  form  of  her  first  lover,  then  a  poor, 
obscure  young  lieutenant  in  the  army.  With 
an  indifference  scarce  tinged  with  pity,  since  it 
hardly  occurred  to  her  in  those  days  that  men 


270  SO  UTHEKN  HE  A  R  TS 

could  really  feel,  she  had  met  his  pleading  af 
fection  with  an  enthusiastic  outburst  of  her 
ambition  to  lead  the  artist's  life,  to  spend  her 
energies  in  self-development,  and  show  what  a 
woman  wholly  devoted  to  an  intellectual  and  ar 
tistic  career  might  become.  They  had  sung  in 
the  choir  together,  had  mingled  their  voices  in 
moments  when,  inspired  by  devotional  ecstasy, 
it  seemed  that  the  two  spirits  united  into  one, 
in  that  mysterious  fellowship  which  belongs 
alike  to  religion  and  to  love.  And  yet  she  had 
no  feeling  for  him  above  regard  :  no  feeling  for 
any  one,  for  anything,  but  art. 

"  You  must  not  think  I  am  deficient  in 
womanly  sensibility,"  she  had  said  to  him,  with 
one  of  those  soft  glances  of  the  meaning  and 
effect  of  which  she  was  entirely  careless  and 
unconscious.  "  But  some  women  must  remain 
spinsters,  you  know,  and  I  think  I  am  meant  to 
be  one  of  the  sisterhood." 

"  You  do  not  know  yourself.  The  day  will 
come  when  ambition  will  seem  nothing  to  you  ; 
when  the  homely  things,  the  real  things,  will 


A  HALT  AT  DAWN  271 

take  on  their  true  value  to  your  eyes,  and  a 
'  career '  will  seem  a  mere  artificiality  that  has 
nothing  to  do  with  what  is  best  and  sweetest 
in  life." 

The  words  had  passed  her  by  as  an  idle 
phrase,  evoked  from  disappointment.  And  she 
and  Richard  Allen  had  parted,  he  going  to  his 
post  on  the  line  in  Arizona,  and  she  to  Italy  to 
study.  And  yet  nothing  passes  from  us  en 
tirely.  Here,  without  warning,  without  her 
intention,  the  little  scene  came  up  before  her 
eyes ;  and  she  saw  again  the  apple-orchard  in 
blossom,  the  red  brick  chimney  of  the  school- 
house  across  the  way  looming  up  in  the  moon 
light,  the  hills  in  the  distance,  the  strong, 
proudly-carried  figure  at  her  side.  And  then 
scene  after  scene  came  up  before  her,  always 
with  the  two  figures  present :  the  manly,  de 
voted  lover,  the  self-absorbed  girl. 

Yet  she  had  lived  for  ambition,  and  the  world 
had  been  kind  to  her,  after  she  had  proven  her 
mettle.  She  had  not  lacked  lovers,  but  she  had 
never  loved.  Her  strong  will,  which  had  de- 


272  SO  UTHERN  HEA  R  TS 

terminedly  mapped  out  an  existence  entirely 
free  from  sentiment,  had  carried  her  through 
every  affair  triumphantly  and  untouched.  Four 
or  five  hours  ago  she  had  entered  that  car  as 
"  free  from  the  trammels  of  passion  "  as  a  vestal 
virgin.  What  was  in  the  air,  what  was  in  the 
night,  that  hurried  her  on  into  imaginative 
flights  ?  Constantly,  like  two  stars,  two  mean 
ing  eyes  seemed  to  gleam  upon  her,  and  kindle 
a  world  of  emotion  latent  and  unsuspected  in 
her  nature !  She  tried  to  be  cynical,  to  laugh, 
to  think  of  something  else ;  she  tried  her  best 
to  get  to  sleep,  but  only  her  will  could  sleep, 
and  fancy  still  rioted.  Richard  Allen  had  had 
the  making  of  a  fine  man  in  him  :  what  had 
become  of  him, — why  had  nothing  been  heard 
of  him  ?  The  woman  whose  religion  was  suc 
cess  had  little  patience  with  patience  ;  it  seemed 
to  her  that  all  virtue  was  embodied  in  some 
sort  of  action.  A  man  who  at  forty — he  must 
be  forty — was  still  obscure,  was  not  worth  a 
thought.  And  yet  he  had  possessed  a  certain 
sort  of  strength.  She  had  been  forced  to  ad- 


A  HAL T  AT  DA  WN  273 

mire,  in  old  times,  a  suggested  moral  superi 
ority,  a  higher  point  of  view  than  she  con 
sidered  practical.  If  he  had  brought  himself  to 
live  up  to  his  own  standard,  he  must  have  been 
unable  to  make  necessary  concessions.  And 
then,  as  Margaret  recalled  some  "  concessions  " 
she  had  herself  made  to  success,  she  felt  her 
cheeks  burn  in  the  darkness.  How  often  she 
had  traded  upon  her  own  attractions,  how  often 
made  use  of  the  influence  of  her  personality  to 
bring  about  certain  ends  !  If  she  had  not  lied 
in  words,  she  had  in  act.  Her  present  status 
had  not  been  attained  without  some  sacrifice 
of  scruples. 

The  woman  turned  restlessly  in  her  berth, 
wondering  why  such  ideas  should  come  to  her 
now  to  interfere  with  her  peace.  She  was 
good  ;  she  was  ashamed  of  nothing  in  her  past ; 
she  was  living  a  high,  free,  independent  life, 
the  life  for  a  woman  of  intellect  and  energy  to 
lead.  Thank  heaven,  she  was  not  an  emotional 
creature  !  Sentiment  had  been  trained  out  of 

her.     Long  after  midnight  she  lost  conscious- 
i? 


274  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

ness,  and  passed  a  few  hours  in  fitful  slumber. 
It  was  cruel  that  she  should  have  to  dream  of 
Richard  Allen  ;  dream  that  they  were  together 
in  an  open  boat,  drifting  out  to  sea,  and  that 
his  arms  were  around  her,  his  eyes  looking  into 
hers.  And  she  cared  for  nothing,  thought  of 
nothing  but  that  he  held  her  close — how 
strangely  sweet  it  was  !— 

A  jar,  a  shock,  a  sudden  stop,  as  if  the  train 
had  run  against  a  wall  of  rock,  and  Margaret 
started  up  and  drew  the  curtain  aside  instinc 
tively.  A  fall  through  space — what  was  it,  oh, 
where  was  she  !  Had  the  train  fallen  down  an 
embankment? 

After  a  minute  she  realized  that  she  had  been 
thrown  from  her  berth  across  the  car,  that 
other  persons  lay  about,  some  groaning,  some 
hastily  picking  themselves  up.  She  shut  her 
eyes  :  there  was  a  sharp  pain  in  her  left  arm, 
and  a  weight  upon  her  side.  A  falling  lamp 
had  struck  her,  and  from  some  cause  she  could 
not  rise  ;  her  leg  must  be  broken.  There  was 
a  terrible  confusion,  much  talking,  and  half-a- 


A     HALT  AT  DAWN  275 

dozen  people   bending  over  her  pityingly  and 
asking  her  questions. 

"  What  has  happened  ?  Is  anybody  killed  ?  " 
she  asked. 

Several  persons  answered  at  once.  They 
had  run  into  a  freight.  The  engineer  on  their 
own  train  was  killed  ;  no  one  else.  Many  were 
hurt.  Could  she  bear  to  be  moved  ? 

"  I  must,"  she  returned,  setting  her  lips,  for 
agonizing  pains  began  to  shoot  through  her 
foot,  and  the  thought  of  being  touched  was 
suffering. 

"  Fortunately  we  are  just  on  the  outskirts  of 
Frithville — there  are  houses  near."  It  was  the 
conductor  who  spoke  now,  and  he  at  once  took 
charge.  She  was  lifted  carefully,  wrapped  in 
blankets  and  carried  out.  Their  car  had  sus 
tained  less  damage  than  any  other,  being  in  the 
rear,  and  there  was  no  difficulty  in  getting  out. 

"  If  she  could  stand  it  to  be  taken  over  yon 
der,"  said  some  one,  pointing  to  a  house  some 
distance  away,  "  she'd  be  more  comfortable,  I 
reckon." 


276  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

"  Where  are  we  ?  "  asked  Margaret,  bravely 
suppressing  her  pain. 

"  Somewhere  in  southern  Indiana — a  little 
town  called  Frithville,"  a  man  answered  her. 

"  If  she  could  stand  it  to  be  taken  over  to 
the  doctor's  house — 3'  said  the  persistent  first 
speaker. 

"  I  can  stand  it,"  she  interposed  ;  "  take  me 
there  quickly." 

They  improvised  a  sort  of  rough  litter  of 
mattresses,  and  carried  her  across  a  field  in  the 
open  country.  The  dawn  was  just  breaking, 
and  the  pale  moon  was  slowly  fading  out  of 
view  before  the  great  coming  light.  The  air 
was  clear,  cold,  crisp  ;  and,  though  there  had 
evidently  been  a  heavy  storm  during  the  night, 
it  had  cleared  completely,  and  the  first  ray  of 
sunlight  glittered  upon  banks  of  frozen  snow. 
The  house  before  which  they  stopped  was  a 
plain,  two-storied  wooden  structure,  which 
seemed  at  first  sight  peculiarly  barren-looking. 
Clean  white  curtains  hung  in  straight,  scant 
folds  at  the  windows.  The  door  had  been 


A  HALT  AT  DAWN  277 

drab  in  color,  but  the  paint  had  been  so  assidu 
ously  scrubbed  that  one  now  took  its  presence 
on  trust.  There  was  a  brass  knocker  and  a 
rush  door-mat,  on  which  lay  a  large  black  cat 
with  bristling  white  whiskers. 

The  door  was  opened  by  a  severe  Swedish 
girl,  whose  starched  cap  and  apron  suggested 
careful  housekeeping,  as  her  suspicious  counte 
nance  suggested  inhospitality.  She  made  no 
objections  to  admitting  them,  however,  and 
Margaret  was  carefully  deposited  upon  a  couch 
in  the  sitting-room  to  wait  the  coming  of  the 
doctor,  who,  the  maid  said,  had  just  left  the 
house  to  go  to  the  scene  of  the  wreck. 

"  We'll  send  him  back  to  you,  ma'am,  right 
off,"  one  of  the  men  assured  her.  "  You  ought 
to  be  'tended  to  first." 

"  Not  if  others  are  suffering  and  need  him 
more,"  said  Margaret  faintly. 

The  ungenial  looking  Swede  proved  herself 
to  be  not  deficient  in  skill,  even  though  sym 
pathy  was  in  a  measure  lacking.  She  made 
her  guest  as  comfortable  as  she  could.  The 


278  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

shoe  was  cut  from  the  swollen  ankle,  which  was 
bathed  and  bandaged,  and  the  hurts  upon  the 
shoulder  and  side  were  pronounced  to  be  only 
bruises  which  "  Herr  doctor  would  make- 
right."  And  then  Margaret  was  left  to  her 
self  while  the  girl  went  to  make  the  inevi 
table  "cup  of  tea,"  which  was  to  set  everything 
straight. 

At  first  she  lay  perfectly  still,  seeing  nothing, 
and  caring  for  nothing,  her  mind  full  of  vexa 
tion  and  impatience  over  an  accident  which 
must  delay  the  fulfilment  of  her  engagement. 
It  did  not  occur  to  her  that  it  might  have  been 
worse  ;  anything  was  bad  enough. 

After  awhile  her  eyes  began  to  wander  idly 
around  the  room.  It  seemed  half  parlor,  half 
st'idy.  Folding  doors  divided  it  from  the 
office  at  the  back.  There  was  a  book-case, 
„  well  filled  ;  some  good  engravings  on  the  walls ; 
a  few  easy-chairs  covered  with  raw  silk  of  a  dull 
hue,  much  worn ;  and  a  writing-table  between 
the  windows,  half  covered  with  books  and 
magazines.  *  There  was  something  agreeable  to 


A  HALT  AT  t)  AWN  2jg 

her  taste  in  the  air  of  the  room.  She  could 
imagine  it  the  abode  of  a  man  whose  very 
poverty  could  never  become  squalid.  The 
great  open  Franklin  stove  shone  brightly,  and 
the  hearth  was  scrupulously  clean.  Upon  the 
mantel  were  a  bronze  clock  and  a  pair  of  fine 
vases,  dainty  in  tone  and  finish;  they  were  the 
sole  womanly  touches  about  the  place.  Noting 
these  details  half  indifferently,  she  lay  back 
again  and  closed  her  eyes. 

When  she  opened  them  again,  they  happened 
to  glance  directly  over  to  a  corner  of  the  room 
which  had  before  been  dim,  but  was  now  illu 
minated  by  a  shaft  of  sunlight.  A  carved 
bracket  hung  there,  and  on  the  shelf  lay  a  sing 
ular  looking  little  instrument,  shaped  like  a 
dagger,  of  Moorish  device,  the  handle  inlaid 
with  gold,  left  rough  ind  unpolished.  When 
Margaret  saw  this  small  object,  she  gave  a  little 
cry  and  tried  to  rise,  but  finding  that  impos 
sible,  she  dropped  back  upon  her  pillows  as  if 
she  had  been  shot,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
little  instrument  with  a  look  of  recognition  that 


280  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

was  half  pleasure,  half  alarm.  What  strange 
trick  was  fate  about  to  play  her?  How  could 
this  thing  be  possible  ? 

There  was  a  noise  :  the  front  door  opened, 
and  some  one  came  along  the  hall  with  a  firm, 
measured  step.  Margaret's  heart,  that  well- 
regulated  organ,  beat  to  suffocation.  She  hardly 
dared  listen  or  look.  She  threw  her  arm  up 
over  her  forehead,  nearly  concealing  her  face. 
Some  one  entered  the  room  and  paused  beside 
her.  A  well-remembered  voice,  graver,  deeper 
than  of  yore,  yet  with  a  cheery  ring  in  it,  said, 
"  Let  me  see  what  I  can  do  to  help  you, 
madam."  A  chair  was  drawn  up  to  the  side 
of  the  couch,  a  gentle  hand  took  her  own.  Her 
pulse  was  beating  furiously  ;  the  hand  was  held 
rather  long,  as  if  something  perplexed  him. 
She  felt  searching  eyes  bent  upon  her  face,  and 
suddenly  threw  down  her  arm.  The  doctor 
drew  back,  his  face  paling,  and  the  two  looked 
at  each  other  for  a  minute  in  silence.  She  spoke 
first,  putting  out  her  hand  timidly. 

"  Richard,  don't  you  remember  me?" 


A  HALT  AT  DAWN  28r 

"  Remember  you  ?  As  if  I  were  likely  ever 
to  forget  you." 

She  softly  touched  his  empty  left  sleeve, 
pinned  over  his  breast,  two  tears  standing  in 
her  eyes. 

"  At  Black  Gulch,"  he  said.  "  I  have  got 
over  minding  it.  Don't  grieve."  • 

"  You  left  the  army  ?  " 

"  Yes,  four  years  ago.  My  health  gave  way. 
I  studied  medicine  in  Indianapolis,  was  invited 
here  by  an  old  friend  to  become  his  assistant, 
and  shortly  afterward  he  died.  That  is  all." 

"  You  never — never " 

"  Yes  ;  I  married." 

The  words  were  an  unexpected  stab.  Mar 
garet  gasped,  amazed  that  she  should  care. 
Her  face  suddenly  became  suffused  with  color, 
and  she  turned  it  away. 

"  She  only  lived  a  year — Margaret,"  said  the 
doctor,  bending  down  to  study  the  fair,  flushed 
face,  suddenly  pain-smitten. 

"  My  ankle  !  "  said  Margaret  faintly,  drawing 
his  attention  to  the  lesser  hurt. 


282  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

He  was  the  doctor  again  at  once,  and,  for 
the  next  half  hour  all  professional  gravity,  and 
as  impersonal  as  the  sphinx ;  yet  the  woman 
felt  through  every  nerve,  like  a  musical  vibra 
tion,  the  thrill  of  his  firm,  warm  fingers,  the 
scrutiny  of  his  eyes.  He  was  changed,  worn 
through  suffering  rather  than  years,  his  face 
lined,  his  hair  grown  gray  ;  with  nothing  young 
about  him  but  his  eyes,  which  sparkled  with  a 
cheer  and  brightness  no  grief  could  dim,  for 
they  mirrored  a  mind  above  all  personal  consid 
erations,  concerned  with  those  large,  loving 
interests  belonging  to  humanity. 

The  woman  felt  the  presence  of  this  spirit, 
as  if  something  beautiful  and  good  had  settled 
softly  down  beside  her,  and  mutely  besought 
her  attention  from  herself  and  her  narrow 
world.  She  struggled  against  it,  yet  it  was  like 
a  shaft  of  genial  sun  heat,  entering  suddenly 
some  frozen  glen ;  she  felt,  in  a  heart  purposely 
hardened  against  such  influences,  a  stir,  a  thaw ; 
ice  was  breaking,  and  the  long-stilled  waters  of 
human  affection  began  to  flow  in  gentle  currents, 


A  HALT  AT  DAWN  283 

inspiring  a  sensation  of  delight  that  astonished 
and  abashed  her. 

The  doctor  came  and  went  quietly,  her  eyes 
following  him.  When  he  intercepted  the  look, 
she  blushed  like  a  schoolgirl.  Too  busy  all 
that  day  to  give  her  more  than  necessary  at 
tention,  he  yet  lost  nothing  that  passed,  and 
she  had  a  sense  which  was  oddly  pleasant  that 
he  understood  something  of  what  was  passing 
in  her  mind.  It  was  terrible,  too.  There  were 
moments  when  she  wished  herself  miles  away. 
Besides  all  the  physical  pain  which  she  endured 
that  long  day,  Margaret's  soul  was  the  battle 
ground  of  a  struggle  far  more  exhausting.  Am 
bition,  pride,  and  love  of  the  world  fought  hard 
against  a  tender,  newly-born  impulse,  which  it 
seemed  that  a  single  breath  of  reason  ought  to 
chill  to  death. 

The  coals  burned  red  in  the  open  stove  ;  a 
little  tea-table  was  set  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  and  in  the  easiest  chair  in  the  house, 
piled  with  all  the  available  cushions,  the  doctor 
placed  Margaret,  taking  his  position  opposite 


284  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

her  The  solemn  Swedish  girl  brought  in 
supper,  which  was  well  cooked  and  served  with 
a  scrupulous  cleanliness  that  almost  atoned  for 
the  absence  of  a  more  dainty  service. 

The  doctor's  face  shone  with  satisfaction,  but 
his  manner,  although  genial,  was  ceremonious. 
Margaret  felt  that,  in  the  few  feet  intervening 
between  them,  there  lay  years  of  care  and  grief 
and  disappointment.  She  felt  a  yearning  to 
bridge  the  chasm,  to  draw  nearer  to  him,  even 
though  she  herself  had  to  take  the  hard  steps 
toward  understanding. 

Thought  the  woman :  "  Does  he  love  me 
still  ?  "  And  thought  the  man  :  "  Is  she  tired 
of  the  world,  and  could  she  learn  to  love  me 
now  ?  " 

But  they  spoke  of  music  ;  of  camp-life  on  the 
western  frontier ;  of  what  they  had  seen,  what 
they  had  read.  Not  a  word  of  what  they  felt. 
A  few  hours  later  the  doctor  stood  in  his  bare 
little  soldier's  bedroom,  and  looked  in  his 
glass.  For  five  minutes  he  studied  himself,  and 
then  he  turned  away,  resolved  to  let  no  new 


A  HALT  AT  DAWN  285 

hope  spring  up  in  his  heart.  But  Margaret 
slept  to  dream  of  him,  woke  through  the  night 
thinking  of  him,  as  she  could  not  have  thought 
in  the  old  days,  when  he  wooed  her  in  the  con 
fidence  of  his  fresh,  hopeful  youth. 

There  was  no  hotel  in  the  village,  and  the 
few  scattered  houses  were  crowded  with  the 
wounded  passengers,  lying  over  till  well  enough 
to  proceed  with  their  journey.  Margaret  was 
not  sorry  that  there  was  no  other  place  for  her 
than  the  refuge  she  had  been  taken  to.  "  I  am 
thinking  that  I  am  singularly  fortunate  in  being 
in  the  doctor's  house,  where  I  get  special  atten 
tion,"  she  said  to  him,  with  a  little  fluttering 
smile. 

In  time  these  shy  looks  wrought  upon  the 
doctor,  and  his  stern  resolution  wavered.  He 
found  himself  sounding  her  preferences  and 
attachments,  with  the  unconfessed  design  of  ex 
tracting  some  unguarded  word  that  might  in 
dicate  a  change  in  her  old  convictions.  Carry 
ing  on  together  these  two  processes — deter 
mination  to  refrain  and  resolution  to  pursue, 


286  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

which  often  accompanies  some  course  of  action 
embraced  in  accordance  with  a  natural,  un 
worldly  judgment,  he  managed  to  betray  to 
the  eager  girl  all  he  wished  to  conceal  and  she 
wished  to  know.  She  had  telegraphed  to  Bal 
timore  that  she  would  be  there  in  ten  days. 
Four  of  them  had  passed,  and  she  was  free  from 
pain  and  able  to  put  her  foot  to  the  ground. 
The  doctor  persisted  in  helping  her  from  her 
couch  to  the  chair  and  back  again. 
"  But  I  can  walk  alone  now,"  she  objected. 

"  We  must  be  careful.  Not  until  to-morrow." 
She  protested  with  greater  earnestness.  "  True 
—I  have  but  one  arm,"  he  said,  with  the  first 
accent  of  bitterness  she  had  heard  from  him. 
Her  lips  parted  to  give  utterance  to  a  sudden 
rush  of  words,  but  she  only  looked  at  him,  with 
eyes  so  eloquent  that  he  answered  the  look. 

"  Margaret,  do  you  care  ?  Dear,  I  have  al 
ways  loved  you,  I  love  you  now, — can  you 
care  ?  " 

She  drooped  her  head  on  his  shoulder,  but 
said  nothing.  The  doctor  held  her  close  for  a 


A    HALT  AT  DAWN  287 

minute,  and  then,  leaving  her,  began  to  walk 
up  and  down  the  room. 

"  It  is  impossible  !  " 

"  It  may  be  impossible,"  murmured  Margaret 
with  a  little  blush,  "  but — it  is  true." 

"  It  is  cruel  of  me  to  ask  it,  dear.  You  are 
young,  beautiful,  brilliant — with  success  at  your 
feet,  and  I — 

She  put  up  her  hand  imploringly.  It  was 
caught  and  held.  "  And  I  am  poor,  obscure 
and — old,"  he  finished,  his  eyes  upon  her 
face. 

"  I  have  come  to  you,  Richard.  It  seemed 
strange  to  me.  I  cannot  explain  it,  but  it 
seems  as  if  everything  the  world  has  to  offer 
me  is  nothing  beside " 

"  Beside  my  love  ?  "  he  bent  on  one  knee  be 
side  her  chair  and  put  her  hand  to  his  lips. 

"  I  want  to  share  your  life,"  she  said,  and  a 
new  expression  grew  upon  her  face,  a  high,  de 
voted  look  which  was  half  heroic,  all  womanly. 
"  I  want  to  learn  something  of  the  great  things, 
the  true  things." 


288  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

"  You  have  had  greater  things  than  I 
can  give  you.  Think  of  all  you  are  leav- 
ing!" 

She  made  a  gesture  of  renunciation.  "  It 
does  not  seem  much  to  leave — for  you." 

"  Ah,  my  darling,  I  am  afraid  you  will  regret 
it.  The  work-a-day  world  will  be  a  trial  to 
you.  And  mine  is  a  veritable  work-a-day 
world." 

He  kept  his  eyes  on  her  face,  half  dreading 
to  see  her  shrink  away.  But  what  woman  is 
not  won  by  an  appearance  of  self-renunciation  ? 
Richard  could  not  have  let  her  go  now  ;  at  the 
last  instant  he  would  have  snatched  her  to  his 
breast,  had  she  drawn  away.  But  the  misgiv 
ing  that  rushed  over  him  so  fiercely  was  a  real 
one,  a  sensible  one  ;  he  felt  it  profoundly,  and 
tried  to  read  in  her  eyes  a  shadow  of  this  coming 
regret.  But  her  eyes  were  clear,  loving,  radiant. 
She  pressed  herself  against  his  breast,  and  gave 
him  the  great  gift  of  her  life  and  her  future. 
Would  the  shadow  ever  come  ? 

The  moon  looked  softly  in,  an  hour  later,  and 


A  HAL  T  AT  DA  WN  289 

finding  the  lovers  in  that  delicious  dream  which 
once   in    a   lifetime    comes  to  most    men  and 
women,  drew  over  her  face  a  gray  cloud-veil 
and  left  them  to  dream  on. 
'9 


PINK    AND     BLACK 


PINK  AND  BLACK1 


ONE  bright  day  in  early  spring,  when  the 
children  had  begun  to  hunt  in  the  woods  for 
trailing  arbutus,  and  the  Shenandoah  River  re 
flected  in  its  clear  depths  the  outlines  of  the 
overlooking  mountains,  a  small,  straight  figure, 
sensibly  habited  in  a  short  gray  gown,  made  its 
way  along  the  single  paved  street  of  Bloomdale 
to  the  principal  store. 

Young  Heaton  Smith,  the  handsome,  blue- 
eyed  son  of  the  proprietor,  came  forward  with 
a  smiling  welcome.  After  a  few  minutes'  pre 
liminary  talk,  Miss  Phillida  confessed  that  she 
had  some  notion  of  buying  a  dress. 

He  placed  a  stool  in  front  of  the  counter  ex 
tending  along  that  side  of  the  store  which  was 
devoted  to  dry  goods,  and,  with  the  air  of  one 

1  Copyright,  1899,  by  "The  Housewife." 

293 


294  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

who  affords  a  pleasant  surprise,  laid  before  her 
several  rolls  of  sheer,  silky  stuff  in  dainty  color 
ings  ;  the  most  conspicuous  being  that  which 
bore  bunches  of  deep  pink  rosebuds  on  a  light 
brown  ground. 

"  Beautiful !  "  murmured  Miss  Phillida,  taking 
hold  of  the  edge  with  a  delicate,  blue-veined 
hand  covered  with  a  network  of  fine  wrinkles. 
"  How  Sister  Emma  would  love  this  pat 
tern  ! " 

"  Here's  a  blue,"  said  Heaton,  laying  another 
before  her.  "  Handsome,  aren't  they?  They 
come  ten  yards  to  a  piece;  just  enough  fora 
dress.  We  only  got  'em  in  yesterday." 

"  I  am  mightily  taken  with  this  pirrk,  Heaton. 
But  I  reckon  it's  too  young-looking  for  me." 

"  You  don't  think  yourself  old,  ma'am  ? 
Mother  was  saying,  only  the  other  day,  that 
none  of  the  girls  could  beat  you  for  complex 
ion." 

"  Just  hear  the  boy  !  If  it  was  Sister  Emma, 
you  might  talk  so.  I  do  agree  with  anybody 
that  calls  her  a  beauty.  But  I  reckon  you 


PINK  AND  BLACK  295 

don't  recollect  Sister  Emma,  Heaton  ?  You 
was  a  child  when  she  went  away." 

"  I  recollect  her,  though.  It's  about  ten 
years  now,  ain't  it?  I  was  twelve  then.  I 
know  I  haven't  forgot  that  big  wedding-cake 
with  the  twelve  dozen  eggs  in  it." 

"  Really,  Heaton?"  said  Miss  Phillida,  color 
ing  with  pleasure.  "  I  was  rather  proud  of 
that  cake.  Emma  could  make  nice  cake  her 
self.  I  suppose  she's  had  a  chance  to  forget  it. 
Her  time's  taken  up  other  ways.  Denver's 
quite  a  gay  place,  she  says ;  and  of  course  her 
husband's  position  requires  her  to  go  out  a 
great  deal." 

This  was  uttered  in  a  tone  of  proud  satisfac 
tion.  Everybody  in  Bloomdale  knew  what  a 
comfort  it  was  to  the  solitary  woman  to  talk 
about  her  sister.  The  Virginia  beauty  had 
married  a  western  millionaire,  and  when  at  the 
monthly  sewing  society  Miss  Phillida  read  aloud 
her  last  Denver  letter,  these  staid,  but  pleasure- 
loving  Virginia  matrons  listened  eagerly. 

Young    Heaton    leaned    back    against    the 


296  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

shelves  in  an  easy,  conversational  attitude,  and 
looked  politely  interested. 

"  Of  course  you  know  she's  coming  home  to 
make  a  visit,  Heaton?"  The  little  lady's  joy 
and  yearning  brimmed  over  her  mild  blue  eyes, 
and  she  lowered  her  head,  pretending  to  ex 
amine  the  goods. 

"  So  I  heard,"  said  Heaton  cordially.  "  We'll 
all  enjoy  seeing  her,  I'm  shore." 

"  I  expect  her  to-morrow,"  Miss  Phillida  cried 
excitedly.  "  By  the  morning  train." 

A  vehicle  drew  up  before  the  long  porch, 
and  the  little  woman  endeavored  to  seem  oc 
cupied  with  her  purchase. 

"  I  reckon  this  black  and  white'd  be  more 
appropriate  to  my  years,"  she  said  in  a  critical 
tone.  "  But  somehow  I'm  awfully  in  the  notion 
of  taking  that  pink." 

"  Take  the  pink,  Miss  Phillidy ;  and  if  you 
change  your  mind,  we'll  take  it  back  and  give 
you  another  in  the  place  of  it." 

Miss  Phillida  cast  another  glance  at  the  black 
and  white,  then  turned  again  to  the  pink. 


PINK  AND  BLACK  297 

"  I'll  take  it  then,  Heaton.  I  feel  somehow 
as  if  it'd  please  Emma  to  have  me  get  a  gown 
that  looked  cheerful.  And  I  must  be  getting 
young  again,  for  I  haven't  been  so  in  the  notion 
of  dressing  up  for  ages.  But,  dear  me  !  if  I 
haven't  forgot  to  ask  the  price !  Maybe  it's 
beyond  my  reach." 

"  No,  indeed,  Miss  Phillidy,  it's  a  bargain. 
Five  dollars  for  any  pattern.  A  chance  we 
mayn't  be  able  to  offer  our  customers  again." 

It  was  a  considerable  sum  for  Miss  Phillida 
to  give  for  a  spring  dress.  She  was  deep  in 
calculations  when  a  handsome  ruddy  man  of 
about  forty-five  entered  the  store,  and  greeted 
her  with  delightful  heartiness. 

He  called  her  "Cousin  Phillidy,"  and  the 
cousinship,  although  very  distant,  enabled  him 
to  do  the  little  woman  many  a  good  turn.  In 
his  heart,  Mr.  Ned  Miller  always  looked  upon 
her  as  the  woman  who  might,  but  for  a  chance, 
have  been  his  sister-in-law.  The  chance  had 
been  Emma  Wood's  marriage  with  another 
man.  But  that  was  not  his  fault.  Bloomdale 


298  SO  UTHERN  HEA  R  TS 

said  that  Ned  Miller  was  of  too  affectionate  a 
nature  to  stay  a  widower. 

As  she  reflected  his  sunshiny  smile  and  an 
swered  his  gay  badinage,  a  strange  idea  sud 
denly  entered  Miss  Phillida's  head.  It  made 
her  get  up  in  great  haste. 

"  I — I'll  take  the  pink,  Heaton,"  she  said 
quickly.  "  I'll  carry  it  right  with  me." 

"  My  horses  air  at  the  door,  cousin.  Let  me 
drive  you  up  the  street." 

"  It's  but  a  step ;  I'm  obliged  to  you,  Cousin 
Ned.  And  it's  such  a  sweet  day,  I  like  to 
walk." 

"  Well,  I'll  see  you  at  preaching  Sunday, 
cousin.  And  your  sister,  too,  I  hope.  But  if 
I'm  in  town  before,  I'll  just  call  in — to  see  if  I 
can  be  of  any  service." 

"  Thank  you,"  murmured  Miss  Phillida. 
"  Give  my  love  to  all  at  Maplegrove,"  and  she 
hastened  homeward,  amazed  at  herself,  and  in 
clined  to  believe  that  the  Father  of  Evil  had 
put  that  startling  notion  into  her  head. 

She  stopped  at  the  gate  of  a  low,   brown 


PIKA'  AND  BLACK  299 

house  opposite  the  Methodist  Church,  and, 
going  through  a  garden  crowded  with  sweet, 
old-fashioned  flowers,  opened  the  side  door 
into  a  little  entry  about  six  feet  square,  from 
which  one  door  on  the  left  led  to  the  sitting-- 

O 

room,  and  another  on  the  right  into  a  spare 
bedroom.  The  kitchen  lay  beyond  the  sitting 
room,  and  thither  Miss  Phillida  directed  her 
steps.  A  cup  of  tea,  taken  upon  the  spotless 
pine  table,  brought  her  back  to  herself.  She 
had  spread  out  the  dress  pattern  over  the  back 
of  the  settee,  to  look  at  while  she  ate  her 
dinner;  and  after  washing  up  the  dishes,  she 
opened  a  door  leading  into  a  chilly  bedroom, 
all  dark,  rich  old  mahogany  and  white  draperies, 
and  carefully  laid  it  away  in  the  lower  drawer 
of  a  capacious  bureau. 

"  I  reckon  it  was  extravagant  of  me,"  she 
soliloquized.  "  But  I  couldn't  shame  Emma 
by  appearing  out  in  company  with  her  in  old 
duds." 

Emma  arrived  the  next  morning.  Bloom- 
dale  was  looking  for  her  when  the  train 


3  oo  SO  UTHERN  1IEA  R  TS 

stopped  at  the  dilapidated  old  shed  called  a 
"  deep-ho."  At  first  Bloomdale  thought  itself 
disappointed.  It  had  expected  a  brilliant 
young  lady  accompanied  by  a  quantity  of  bag 
gage,  exhibiting,  perhaps,  some  of  the  haughti 
ness  of  a  person  used  to  the  homage  paid  to 
rank  and  wealth.  Instead,  there  was  left  upon 
the  platform,  besides  a  small,  plain  trunk,  a  tall 
woman  dressed  all  in  black,  her  face  covered 
with  a  heavy  veil.  She  advanced  hesitatingly. 
Miss  Phillida,  straining  her  eyes  to  see  through 
that  veil,  suddenly  pressed  forward  and  fell  into 
her  arms. 

"  It's  you,  sister !  I  know  you  by  your  walk. 
Come  and  get  into  the  carryall,  there's  room 
for  the  trunk  at  the  back." 

Bewildered,  but  energetic,  she  steered  her 
sister  past  the  little  crowd  and  landed  her 
safely  in  the  old  carryall,  upon  the  back  of 
which  a  strapping  negro  was  already  adjusting 
the  trunk.  Miss  Phillida  recognized  him  as 
the  coachman  of  Mr.  Ned  Miller,  and  the  tears 
came  to  her  eyes  as  he  handed  her  the  reins. 


-PINK  AND  BLACK  301 

To  her  excited  sense,  it  seemed  significant  that 
the  first  person  to  show  kindness  to  Emma  on 
her  home-coming  should  be  some  one  belong 
ing  to  her  old  lover. 

She  talked  without  knowing  what  she  said. 
So  far,  Emma  had  not  spoken,  after  the  first 
low  murmur  of  greeting.  Emma! — the  gay, 
sparkling  girl  whose  high  spirits  and  talent  for 
conversation  had  made  her  a  favorite  in  county 
society.  For  whom  could  she  be  in  mourning? 
Miss  Phillida  racked  her  brain  with  conjectures. 

When  they  were  inside  the  house  Emma 
lifted  her  veil,  gazing  around  like  one  who  had 
just  returned  to  life  from  a  long  trance.  Her 
face,  whose  beauty  was  of  .a  grand  type,  soft 
ened  and  brightened  from  its  look  of  stern  re 
pose,  as  one  by  one  she  recognized  objects 
once  loved  and  familiar. 

"  Everything  is  just  the  same,"  she  said  in  a 
low  voice,  vibrant  with  feeling.  "  Grandfather's 
and  father's  swords  there  on  the  wall,  the  fox- 
skin  rugs,  the  horsehair  armchairs,  and  the  dear 
old  brass  andirons ! — How  good  of 'you  to  have 


302  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

a  fire,  Phillida,  dear  !  It  looks  so  cheerful.  I 
haven't  seen  a  wood  fire  on  the  hearth  since  I 
left  home." 

"You  mean  home  in  Denver?"  palpitated 
Miss  Phillida,  feeling  strangely  awed  by  this 
sister  with  grave  manner  and  pale  face. 

"  No  !  "  The  denial  was  quick  and  passion 
ate,  more  like  the  fervor  of  the  old  Emma. 
She  threw  off  her  bonnet  and  cloak  with  rapid 
movements,  and  held  out  her  arms  to  little  Miss 
Phillida.  In  a  moment  all  constraint  had 
melted  away  between  the  long-severed  sisters. 
The  tongue  of  the  elder  was  loosened,  and  she 
asked  question  after  question,  which,  however, 
Emma  parried. 

"I  have  a  long  story  to  tell  you,  dear;  but 
let  us  wait  till  evening.  When  the  curtains  are 
drawn  and  the  lamps  lit,  I  shall  feel  better  able 
to  talk.  Let  me  just  enjoy  being  at  home,  for 
a  little  while." 

She  followed  Miss  Phillida  out  to  the  kitchen 
and,  sitting  on  a  low  chair  with  the  big  black 
cat  purring  in  her  lap,  watched  her  fry  the 


PINK  AND  BLACK  303 

chicken  and  bake  the  corn  cakes  for  dinner, 
talking  meanwhile,  fluently  and  entertainingly, 
of  life  in  the  West,  and  of  the  different  cities 
she  had  visited.  But  not  a  word  of  herself.  • 

When  dinner  was  over,  she  insisted  upon 
wiping  the  dishes ;  and  it  was  then  that  Miss 
Phillida  scrutinized  her  dress,  and  saw  that  it 
was  rusty,  and  not  of  fine  material. 

"  Oh,  just  a  traveling  dress,"  thought  the 
elder  sister,  who  experienced  an  odd  fluttering 
of  the  heart. 

The  afternoon  was  consumed  in  examining 
the  house  and  garden.  Miss  Phillida  raised  her 
own  vegetables,  and  kept  a  few  chickens,  which 
latter  amused  themselves  by  scratching  up  her 
seeds  and  pecking  her  choicest  tomatoes  as  they 
ripened.  A  creek  watered  the  lower  end  of  the 
garden,  and  here  a  half-dozen  ducks  disported 
lazily.  Under  a  spreading  apple  tree  was  a 
bench  covered  with  an  old  buffalo  robe,  upon 
which  she  sat  with  her  sewing  on  summer  after 
noons.  Surrounded  thus  by  comfort  and  peace, 
the  gentle  spinster  had  lived  her  harmless  ex- 


304  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  7IS1 

istence,  conscious  of  but  one  ungratified  wish  : 
the  longing  for  her  sister.  And  now  that  wish 
was  accomplished.  With  tremors  of  delight  she 
displayed  everything,  confiding  all  her  little 
plans  to  affectionate,  sympathetic  ears.  Each 
homely  detail  gave  Emma  fresh  pleasure.  She 
seemed  to  desire  to  penetrate  to  the  heart  of 
this  simple  home  life ;  to  attach  herself  to  it, 
like  one  who  thirsted  for  an  intimacy  with 
something  genuine  and  natural. 

Miss  Phillida  saw  with  pleasure  that  clouds 
were  gathering,  and  that  darkness  would  come 
on  earlier  than  usual.  Emma  became  grave 
again  after  supper ;  and  when  she  seated  herself 
in  the  big  rocking-chair  before  the  hearth  in 
the  sitting-room,  the  firelight  played  over  fea 
tures  that  wore  an  expression  of  noble  sad 
ness. 

"  It  is  three  years  since  I  left  Denver,"  she 
said,  turning  her  luminous  gray  eyes  upon  her 
sister's  bewildered  countenance.  "  I  sent  my 
letters  to  a  friend  there  who  mailed  them 
to  you.  It  was  not  necessary  for  you  to  be. 


PINK  AND  BLA  CK  305 

harassed  by  a  knowledge  of  my  sufferings.  You 
fancied  I  was  living  a  happy,  care-free  life  with 
a  rich  and  generous  husband.  Heavens  ! — How 
unsophisticated  we  are,  we  country  folks  in 
Virginia ! 

"  I  can't  make  it  all  plain  to  you,  Phillida, 
for  you  wouldn't  understand  without  having 
gone  through  it,  how,  little  by  little,  I  learned 
the  ways  of  society,  and  on  what  a  base  foun 
dation  the  wealth  we  enjoyed  was  built.  Rob 
ert  was  a  speculator,  and  a  reckless,  unscrupu 
lous  one.  And  besides  this  he  was  not  honest 
in  small  things.  The  husband  I  had  imagined 
a  fairy  prince,  full  of  noble  qualities,  was  not 
only  false  but  mean.  He  gave  me  whatever 
was  necessary  to  make  a  show  ;  nothing  for  my 
pleasure.  Poor  little  sister !  Don't  you  sup 
pose  I  wanted  to  send  you  presents  ?  I  never 
had  a  dollar  of  my  own  all  those  seven  years. 
But  finally  the  end  came.  Robert  failed — and 
it  was  a  dishonorable  failure.  He  went  away 
in  the  night,  leaving  me  to  bear  the  brunt  of 

everything." 
29 


3  06  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

"  Oh,  oh  !  "  breathed  Miss  Phillida.  "  And 
didn't  he  come  back  ?  " 

"  He  wrote  me  a  letter  from  Canada,  telling 
me  to  come  over  to  him,  for  he  was  sick.  Well, 
I  went !  I  nursed  him,  and  worked  for  him, — 
and  I  put  up  for  two  years  with  a  life  that  was 
Purgatory.  You  mustn't  expect  me  to  be  very 
sorry  he  died  then,  Phillida.  You  wouldn't  if 
you  knew  all.  I  did  hate  to  come  back  to 
you, — such  a  failure !  But  it  was  a  miserable 
existence  all  alone  there,  in  Quebec,  and — I 
knew  you  would  be  glad  to  see  me,  dear !  " 

For  a  few  moments  the  sisters  wept  together. 
Then  Emma  raised  her  head. 

"  I  thought  that  perhaps  I  might  get  a 
school.  Of  course  I  intend  to  do  something." 

"  No,  no !  "  cried  Miss  Phillida,  wiping  her 
eyes  and  taking  her  sister's  hand.  "  You 
needn't  do  that,  dearest.  With  the  garden  and 
the  cow  and  chickens,  there  is  plenty.  And 
then,  you  know,  the  hundred  a  year  that  comes 
from  the  railroad  shares  is  as  much  yours  as 
mine.  Everything  is  yours,  and,  thank  heaven, 


PINK  AND  BLACK  307 

you're  at  home  now,  where  everybody'll  be 
good  to  you  !  " 

"  The  same  generous,  self-sacrificing  little 
soul !  But,  dear  Phillida,  I  must  work,  if  only 
to  keep  myself  happy.  I  should  soon  be  mis 
erable  and  restless  with  nothing  to  do.  Come, 
make  up  your  mind  to  let  me  be  a  help  instead 
of  a  burden.  I  have  set  my  heart  upon  the 
school.  Tell  me,  who  are  the  trustees  now?" 

"  Cousin  Ned  Miller's  a  trustee,"  replied  Miss 
Phillida,  who  had  grown  thoughtful.  "  Per 
haps  you're  right,  Emma.  Maybe  you'll  be 
happier  with  the  children  to  think  about.  And 
he'll  get  you  a  school,  I'm  quite  sure." 

Emma  rocked  softly  back  and  forth,  looking 
into  the  fire.  Perhaps  she  saw  visions  there  of 
a  new  and  happier  life,  for  her  face  took  on  an 
expression  of  content. 

But  some  little  personal  worry  preyed  upon 
Miss  Phillida's  mind.  She  said  nothing  about 
it,  but  one  morning  when  Emma  had  gone  for 
a  drive  with  one  of  the  neighbors,  she  took 
from  the  bureau  drawer  the  precious  parcel  re- 


308  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

posing  there,  and  with  an  air  of  guilt  made  her 
way  to  the  store. 

"  I've  brought  back  this  dress,"  she  said  con 
fidentially  to  Heaton.  "  And  if  you'll  be  so  kind 
as  to  change  it,  I'll  take  the  black  and  white 
piece.  I  feel  it's  more  suitable,  somehow." 

He  readily  obliged  her,  and  the  new  pattern 
was  deposited  in  the  deep  drawer,  after  which 
the  little  woman  wore  an  air  of  chastened 
cheerfulness. 

Cousin  Ned  Miller  justified  Miss  Phillida's 
confidence.  He  not  only  promised  Emma  the 
school,  but  offered  to  get  a  class  in  French  for 
her  ;  and  he  spent  time  running  about,  waiting 
on  her,  and  cheering  her  in  every  way  that 
could  suggest  itself  to  his  kind  heart.  His 
handsome  team  stood  almost  every  day  before 
the  little  brown  house,  while  he  loitered  on  the 
honeysuckle  scented  porch  with  the  sisters. 
There  was  always  some  plausible  excuse  for  his 
coming,  and  the  true  meaning  of  his  visits  did 
not  dawn  upon  Miss  Phillida's  mind  until  one 
afternoon  when  she  suddenly  entered  the 


PINK  AND  BLACK  ^09 

sitting-room  and  saw  them  on  the  sofa  to 
gether. 

The  little  woman's  face  was  aflame  with  joy 
ous  excitement,  as  she  ran  into  the  kitchen  and 
began  moving  things  about,  without  knowing 
or  caring  what  she  did.  The  happiest  out 
come! — the  most  natural,  the  most  comfort 
able,  and  most  reasonable  arrangement  that 
could  happen !  Emma  and  Cousin  Ned ! 
They  were  made  for  each  other. 

"  I  really  can't  keep  still,"  thought  Miss 
Phillida.  "  I  must  go  somewhere." 

As  she  put  on  her  old  gray  gown,  a  thought 
suddenly  flashed  into  her  mind.  "-Maybe  it'll 
look  curious,"  she  reflected.  "  But  I  declare  if 
I  won't." 

Once  more  she  entered  the  store  with  a  par 
cel  under  her  cape.  Fortunately  the  accommo 
dating  clerk  was  the  only  one  around. 

Miss  Phillida  blushed  as  she  laid  the  black 
and  white  dress  pattern  on  the  counter. 

"  I'm  ashamed  to  be  so  changeable,  Heaton, 
indeed  I  am  ;  but  things  have  altered  lately,  and 


3 1 o  SOUTHERN  HEAR TS 

— my  mind's  more  given  to  bright  colors,  some 
how.  So,  if  it  won't  inconvenience  you  any, 
and  if  you'd  really  just  as  lief — I  think  I'll 
change  back  to  the  pink." 


MRS.  MAY'S  PRIVATE  INCOME 


MRS.  MAY'S  PRIVATE  INCOME.1 


WHEN  Laura  McHenry  quietly  turned  her 
back  upon  the  wealthy  and  desirable  suitor  her 
family  had  decided  she  should  marry,  and  gave 
her  hand  to  William  May,  a  middle-aged  lawyer 
of  no  particular  standing  or  prospects,  every 
body  decided  that  she  had  thrown  herself 
away. 

Mr.  May  began  his  married  life  upon  a  wind 
fall  of  fifteen  hundred  dollars,  his  largest  fee  in 
a  dozen  years.  A  pretty  house  in  Richmond  was 
leased  for  a  year,  and  the  delightful  experience 
of  buying  new  furniture  and  disposing  it  to  the 
best  advantage  gave  the  young  wife  such  happy 
occupation  for  the  first  two  months  that  she 
was  always  in  a  sunny  humor,  full  of  brightness 
and  variability,  and  that  kind  of  independent 
submissiveness  which  charms  a  man  who  likes 

1  Copyright,  1899,  by  S.  H.  Moore  &  Co. 

313 


3 i4  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

to  see  a  woman  much  occupied  with  household 
affairs,  and  with  himself,  as  the  center  of  the 
household.  Her  pretty  show  of  activity  amused 
him.  He  said  she  made  occupation  for  herself 
in  moving  the  furniture  from  one  place  to  an 
other  and  then  back  again.  One  of  his  jokes 
was  to  ask  her  where  he  should  find  the  bed 
when  he  came  home.  And  upon  this  she  would 
pretend  to  pout,  and  then  they  would  kiss  each 
other  without  the  least  awkwardness  or  shame- 
facedness,  and  he  would  go  off  to  his  work 
with  a  pleasant  sense  of  security  in  the  devotion 
of  his  lovely  wife,  while  she  would  carry  in  her 
mind  all  day  long  the  picture  of  his  smiling 
face,  and  love  him  for  every  pretty  speech  and 
admiring  look. 

They  were  really  happy.  And  it  lasted  quite 
six  months,  till  all  the  fifteen  hundred  dollars 
had  been  drawn  out  of  the  bank,  except  the 
bare  moiety  necessary  to  keep  the  account. 

When  Dinah's  wages  were  a  month  over 
due,  her  substantial  presence  disappeared  out 
of  the  kitchen,  and  Laura's  dainty  white  hands 


MKS  MA  y'S  PRIVA  TE  INCOME  3  T  5 

made  acquaintance  with  dish-mops,  stove- 
lifters  and  brooms.  Such  an  ignoramus  as  she 
found  herself !  And  with  what  zeal  she  bent 
her  mind  to  the  study  of  cookery  books  and 
the  household  corners  of  the  newspapers.  And 
brains  told.  She  left  the  flour  out  of  her  first 
cake,  but  her  second  one  was  a  triumph  of  art, 
and  muffins,  veal  cutlets  and  custards  came  out 
from  under  her  clever  fingers  with  a  delicacy 
and  deftness  that  surprised  herself  and  gratified 
May  immensely.  Although  he  was  sorry  to 
have  her  work  in  the  kitchen,  and  sorry  to  find 
her  now  too  tired  to  sing  to  him  in  the  even 
ings  with  the  same  spirit  and  freshness  that 
used  to  breathe  through  her  songs.  But  the 
worst  thing  was  that  fatigue  and  unending  at 
tention  to  details,  united  to  those  perpetual 
interruptions  from  the  door-bell  which  drive 
busy  women  almost  distracted,  had  their  effect 
upon  Laura's  delicate  frame.  She  grew  "  nerv 
ous,"  which  is  often  a  misnomer  for  com 
bined  worry  and  distasteful  labors.  It  will 
seem  to  the  inexperienced  that  the  housekeep- 


3 1 6  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

ing  for  two  people,  in  a  convenient  little  house, 
should  have  been  a  mere  bagatelle  to  a  clever 
woman.  Perhaps  it  would  have  been  if  Laura 
had  not  had  her  profession  to  learn  as  well  as 
practise.  She  had  not  been  brought  up  to 
housework,  but  to  sing.  Music  had  always 
been  so  much  a  part  of  her  life  that  she  no 
more  thought  of  giving  up  her  daily  study 
hours  than  she  would  have  thought  of  giving 
up  her  William.  It  was  not  that  she  chose  to 
work  at  her  piano  three  or  four  hours  a  day 
after  her  morning  housework  was  done,  but 
that  it  simply  did  not  occur  to  her  to  do  other 
wise.  She  usually  forgot  or  neglected  to  take 
any  lunch,  and  by  dinner  time  had  no  appetite, 
which  had  its  conveniences,  for  it  was  rapidly 
coming  to  pass  that  the  dinners  she  could  com 
pass  upon  the  scanty  and  irregular  supplies 
of  money  she  received  were  scarcely  suffi 
cient  for  more  than  one  person,  and  she  con 
trived  that  her  husband  should  be  that 
person. 

She  had  a  thousand  devices  for  inducing  him 


MRS.  MA  Y'S  PRIVA  TE  INCOME  3 1 7 

to  eat  the  bit  of  steak,  the  single  cup-custard, 
or  the  slice  of  fish.  He  was  far  from  realizing 
that  his  delicately  fair  wife,  with  her  dainty 
tastes,  was  illy  nourished  upon  the  tea  and 
toast  to  which  she  often  confined  herself.  Nor 
did  Laura  realize  it. 

But  after  all,  it  was  not  the  housework,  the 
scanty  food,  nor  even  the  lack  of  variety  and 
refreshment  in  her  life  that  was  beginning  to 
tell  heavily  upon  her  health,  that  was  spoiling 
her  beautiful  disposition  and  making  her  ap 
prehensive  and  irritable.  It  was  something 
more  terrible  to  a  loving  woman,  honoring  and 
admiring  her  husband  with  all  her  soul,  than 
all  these  things  combined. 

The  third  anniversary  of  their  wedding-day 
came.  Laura  remembered  what  day  it  was  as 
she  opened  her  eyes  in  the  early  dawn.  A 
sigh  escaped  her  before  she  knew  it.  The 
tendency  to  meditate,  as  Nathaniel  Hawthorne 
observed,  makes  a  woman  sad.  Laura  had 
always  been  thoughtful ;  lately — being  much 
alone  and  having  some  matters  to  think  about 


3 1 8  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  K  TS 

not  tending  to  raise  her  spirits,  she  had  insen 
sibly  become  sober. 

She  put  her  feet  out  of  bed  into  a  pair  of 
worn  slippers,  and  shaking  down  a  heavy  mass 
of  dark  brown  hair  that  matched  her  eyes  in 
color,  made  her  toilet  without  waking  her 
husband,  who  slumbered  serenely  till  within  ten 
minutes  of  the  breakfast  hour,  when  she  called 
him,  meeting  with  a  not  overgracious  response. 

The  little  dining-room  had  a  pleasant  and 
comfortable  air  this  chilly  September  morning. 
The  little  round  table  bore  a  glass  containing  a 
sprig  or  two  of  red  geranium  from  the  pot  in 
the  window,  and  the  coffee-urn  of  nickel  was 
polished  till  it  shone  like  silver. 

Mr.  May  came  in  after  keeping  her  waiting 
fifteen  minutes,  and  after  helping  her  and  him- 
self  to  oatmeal,  began  to  read  the  newspaper 
that  lay  at  his  plate  in  apparent  forgetfulness 
of  everything  else.  He  was  a  stout,  rather 
short  man,  with  large,  luminous  brown  eyes 
that  never  seemed  to  be  looking  at  anything  in 
particular.  A  full  beard  and  mustache  sprin- 


MRS.  MA  y'S  PRIVA  TE  INCOME  3  T  9 

kled  with  gray  hid  a  mouth  that  in  his  youth 
had  made  the  lower  part  of  his  face  strongly 
resemble  that  of  Peter  the  Great.  There  was 
some  quality  about  him  that  caused  one  to 
dread  arousing  his  anger ;  a  strong  sense  of  his 
own  importance,  perhaps.  Some  persons  have 
the  gift  of  reflecting  their  own  egotism  into 
the  minds  of  others,  rendering  themselves 
formidable  entirely  through  an  appeal  to  the 
imagination. 

Laura  was  a  tall,  gracefully-formed  woman, 
with  a  presence  that  promised  to  become  ma 
jestic  with  increasing  years.  Yet  at  heart  she 
was  timid  and  sensitive  as  a  delicate  child,  need 
ing  affection  and  encouragement  in  the  same 
measure ;  the  last  woman  in  the  world  for  a 
man  who  lived  entirely  within  himself,  and  to 
whom  a  wife  was  an  adjunct,  to  be  put  on  and 
off  at  his  pleasure.  Yet  May  had  in  regard  to 
her — and  in  regard  to  all  other  things — a  con 
science  void  of  offense.  He  took  credit  to 
himself  for  having  given  her  her  heart's  desire 
in  his  love, 


320  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

The  door-bell  jangled  sharply.  May  looked 
up. 

"  If  that  is  the  landlord,"  he  said  impres 
sively,  "  I  don't  want  to  see  him." 

"  What  shall  I  tell  him  ?  "   asked  Laura. 

"  Tell  him  anything  you  please  !  "  The  tone 
was  sternly  impatient  this  time. 

She  went  slowly  into  the  narrow  hall,  and 
after  a  momentary  parley  with  some  one  who 
spoke  in  a  high,  angry  voice,  returned  with  a 
bill  which  she  laid  before  him  without  a  word. 

"Tell  him  I  will— attend-to  it." 

"  He  says "  she  murmured  deprecatingly, 

but  got  no  further ;  the  lowering  expression 
that  came  over  his  face  was  too  lacerating  to 
her  feelings.  She  preferred  confronting  the 
irate  butcher  again. 

But  there  was  a  lump  in  her  throat  as  she 
quietly  resumed  her  seat.  One  of  her  ideas  of 
the  "  protection "  promised  by  the  marriage 
ceremony  had  been  a  shielding  from  the  rough 
ness  of  persons  of  this  sort.  Why  did  he  ask 
her  to  stand  between  him  and  the  landlord,  the 


MKS.  MA  y'S  PRIVA  TE  INCOME  32 1 

coal  man  and  the  butcher?  Why,  oh,  why, 
was  there  any  necessity  for  these  evasions  and 
subterfuges?  She  looked  at  her  husband  as 
he  arose  at  last,  after  a  leisurely  breakfast  hour, 
and  stood  by  the  window  finishing  a  paragraph 
in  his  paper.  He  was  a  strong,  robust  man  in 
the  prime  of  life,  with  a  profession  and  hosts 
of  acquaintances  to  help  on  his  interests. 
Why  could  he  not  at  least  make  the  small 
income  necessary  to  keep  their  very  modest 
establishment  going? 

The  explanation  lay  in  a  single  fact.  May 
was  a  man  of  visionary  schemes,  always  chasing 
some  will-o'-the-wisp  which  promised  fortune 
and  distinction,  finding  his  pleasure  in  holding 
honorary  posts  at  his  political  club,  which  gave 
him  a  chance  to  talk  and  repaid  him  in  a 
cheaply  gained  reputation  for  ability. 

Little  by  little  Laura's  idealized  vision  of 
her  husband  had  faded  before  the  pressure  of 
facts.  But  she  clung  to  the  shreds  of  her  faith 
as  women  do  hold  to  their  illusions ;  as  they 
must  if  the  world  is  to  go  on  and  homes  con- 

21 


322  SO  UTHERN  JIEA  K  7'S 

tinue  to  exist.  There  was  something  still  for 
her  to  learn,  however,  and  not  the  easiest  les 
son  that  had  been  set  for  her. 

She  set  rather  indifferently  about  her  practis 
ing  that  afternoon.  It  seemed  to  be  no  matter 
whether  Chopin  or  Mendelssohn  spoke  to  her 
soul ;  both  were  alike  rendered  with  a  cold 
brilliancy  very  far  removed  from  her  usual 
sympathetic  interpretation.  Her  thoughts 
were  far  away,  wandering  amid  scenes  of  her 
girlhood  ;  a  happy  time,  full  of  social  enjoy 
ment,  of  affectionate  family  intercourse,  of 
freedom  from  care,  from  make-shifts,  from  the 
dishonor  of  debt ;  a  dishonor  that  bore  lightly 
upon  May,  with  his  belief  in  the  future,  but 
that  was  crushing  to  her  sensitive  nature.  Idly 
her  fingers  wandered,  swifter  her  thoughts  flew, 
till  all  at  once  a  sentence  of  homely  wisdom 
from  a  modern  novelist  came  into  her  mind : 
"  Many  women  are  struggling  under  the  burden 
of  money-saving  when  they  had  far  rather 
spend  their  energies  in  money-getting." 

She  arose  'impetuously,  her  eyes  suddenly 


MRS.  MA  y'S  PR1VA  TE  INCOME  323 

full  of  light.  What  had  she  been  thinking  of? 
There  was  a  fund  of  unused  wealth  in  her  fine 
musical  education,  in  her  beautiful  voice,  a 
little  impaired  by  hardships,  but  magnificent 
still.  Here  was  the  way  out  of  all  this  mirage 
of  poverty ;  with  what  she  could  earn  by  tak 
ing  a  class  in  Madame  Cable's  school  combined 
with  her  husband's  earnings,  they  could  live 
with  comparative  ease  and  comfort.  Oh, 
happiness,  oh,  relief!  Laura's  hat  and  cape 
were  on  in  ten  minutes  and  a  car  was  taking 
her  down-town  to  the  dwelling  of  her  old 
teacher,  sure  of  a  welcome  and  of  aid.  Madame 
had  offered  her  this  position  five  years  ago, 
just  after  her  graduation,  but  her  mother  would 
not  hear  of  it.  Now  her  mother  was  two 
thousand  miles  away,  on  a  frontier  post  with 
Major  McHenry,  entirely  ignorant  of  the  state 
of  affairs  in  her  daughter's  household. 

What  a  curiously  elusive  thing  courage  is ! 
By  the  time  Laura's  finger  was  on  the  bell  at 
Madame's  door,  her  breath  was  coming  in 
gasps,  and "  while  she  waited  in  the  lofty  and 


324  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

handsomely  furnished  parlor  for  the  coming 
of  her  old  teacher,  all  the  strength  went  out 
of  her  knees,  so  that  she  found  it  difficult  to 
rise  when  that  stately,  self-possessed  woman 
came  in  with  a  little  silken  rustle  of  skirts  and 
extended  hand. 

It  is  so  hard  to  say  outright  to  a  friend, 
"  Help  me  !  "  And  yet,  is  not  the  opportunity 
of  giving  help  and  comfort  one  of  the  rewards 
of  a  successful  life?  Why  do  we  distrust 
human  goodness  ?  It  was  the  pride  in  Laura's 
nature  that  made  her  talk  of  everything  else 
rather  than  the  object  of  her  call,  that  made 
her  tongue  falter  and  her  cheek  grow  paler, 
when  at  length  she  brought  herself  to  her  task. 

But  fate  was  not  ill-disposed.  It  happened 
that  Madame  needed  her  services.  She  had 
come  at  an  opportune  moment,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  the  business  was  satisfactorily  settled. 

"  At  the  same  time,  my  dear,"  said  Madame, 
folding  her  soft,  fat  hands  and  shaking  her 
head  till  the  emerald  drops  in  her  ears  emitted 
flashes  of  green  fire,  "  I  must  say  that  I  never 


MRS.  MA  VS  PR IV A  TE  INCOME  325 

like  to  see  a  married  woman  set  out  to  earn 
money.  It  is  apt  to  spoil  her  husband.  A 
man  should  support  his  wife.  It  is  his  duty 
and  it  ought  to  be  his  pleasure.  And  another 
side  of  the  matter  is  that  women  to  whom  the 
extra  income  they  can  gain  by  their  talents 
means  luxury  and  possibly  extravagance,  forget 
that  such  competition  makes  it  harder  for  their 
needy  sisters.  Money-making  is  not  such  a 
gracious  task.  It  should  be  left  to  those  who 
really  need  the  money." 

"  I  am  not  going  to  tell  you  I  need  it," 
thought  Laura.  Aloud,  she  said  with  much 
indifference : 

"  Madame,  have  you  any  one  in  your  mind 
you  would  rather  get  to  take  your  classes — 
any  one  you  think  would  do  the  work  better  ?  " 

"  No,"  the  teacher  acknowledged  that  she 
knew  no  other  superior  to  her  old  pupil. 
"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  if  I  did  I  should  feel 
it  a  duty  to  engage  the  better  worker.  The 
principal  of  a  school  like  this  cannot  let  her 
feelings  guide  her,  you  know." 


326  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  K  TS 

"  Then  as  the  advantage  is  mutual,"  said 
Laura,  a  smile  breaking  over  her  serious  face, 
"  my  conscience  is  at  rest.  It  is  a  matter  of 
the  success  of  the  fittest.  My  needier  sister 
is  not  so  well  prepared  for  the  post  as  I,  and 
so  I  get  it." 

"  Really,  you  are  right,  '  murmured  Madame, 
with  her  head  on  one  side.  "  But,"  she  added 
as  her  visitor  rose,  "  take  my  advice  about  one 
thing:  keep  your  earnings  for  yourself;  they 
belong  to  you.  Don't  let  your  husband  find 
out  that  there  is  a — another  capable  bread 
winner  in  the  house." 

Madame  had  not  the  highest  opinion  in  the 
world  of  Mr.  William  May.  But  who  lays  to 
heart  words  of  selfish  caution  ?  Not  the  wife 
who  in  the  glow  of  comfort  and  peace  arising 
from  the  prospect  of  an  income  of  her  own, 
feels  all  the  old  confidence  and  affection  return 
as  she  explains  matters  to  her  husband  with  a 
careful  avoidance  of  any  wound  to  his  self- 
love,  and  a  blissful  dwelling  upon  the  pleasure 
and  advantage  that  is  to  come  to  herself 


MA'S.  MA  y'S  PRIVA  TE  INCOME  327 

in  the  healthful  exercise  of  her  accomplish 
ments. 

May  was  a  little  afraid  their  social  standing 
would  suffer.  He  certainly  did  not  like  the 
idea  of  his  wife  teaching  in  a  school.  It  was 
contrary  to  all  his  preconceptions  of  her  do 
mestic,  home-loving  disposition. 

"  It  is  a  reflection  upon  me,"  he  said  moodily, 
adding  with  a  little  passionate  movement  that 
brought  her  within  his  arm,  her  cheek  close  to 
his  lips :  "  I  didn't  marry  you  to  let  you  work, 
my  darling !  " 

She  might  have  answered  that  he  had  let 
her  work  at  harder  things,  but  she  did  not. 
She  dwelt  upon  the  idea  of  the  comfort  a 
regular  occupation  was  to  be  to  her  during  the 
long  winter  days.  She  would  be  much  hap 
pier  and  less  lonely  with  something  to  do. 
Very  little  said  she  of  the  salary  that  was  an 
item  of  so  much  importance  in  her  mind. 

But  after  he  had  gone  out  to  his  club  she 
got  out  a  little  blank  book  and  figured  it  all 
away  for  six  months  to  come.  She  resolved 


328  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

to  leave  out  of  consideration  the  house-rent 
and  the  table.  Naturally,  William  would  con 
tinue  to  bear  the  burden  of  these  responsi 
bilities.  Her  design  was  to  fill  in  the  vacancies 
which  he  was  indifferent  to.  So  much  for  the 
gas  bill,  so  much  for  laundry,  so  much  for  the 
seats  in  church.  And  something  over  for  the 
indispensable  winter  clothing  and  for  the  joy 
of  giving.  She  looked  forward  to  the  hap 
piness  of  hanging  a  new  hat  upon  the  rack  in 
place  of  dear  Will's  shabby  one,  and  of  supply 
ing  a  pair  of  slippers.  Bliss  and  comfort  of  a 
little  control  over  circumstances,  instead  of 
being  compelled  to  stand  helpless  and  anxious 
waiting  upon  the  good  fortune  of  another  ! 
Could  a  man  have  any  idea  of  what  this  feeling 
is  to  a  woman  ?  Mr.  May  could  not  have  had, 
or  he  would  never  have  done  what  he  did. 

All  that  first  month  Laura  was  buoyed  up 
by  the  anticipation  of  that  comfortable  check 
she  was  soon  to  finger.  Cool  autumn  breezes 
were  beginning  to  blow,  but  when  first  one 
woman,  then  another,  put  on  wraps,  until  her 


MRS.  MA  Y'S  PRIVA  TB  INCOME  329 

plain  undrapcd  gown  appeared  odd,  she  merely 
smiled  indifferently  and  warmed  herself  with 
the  thought  of  pay-day.  When  the  farina 
kettle  sprang  a  leak  she  laughingly  declared 
it  was  old  enough  to  be  superannuated.  A 
dollar  seemed  such  a  trifle  to  worry  over 
now. 

At  last  it  was  in  her  hands.  The  first  earn 
ing  of  her  life.  With  a  child's  glee  she  hur 
ried  home  and  displayed  it  to  her  husband, 
enjoying  his  teasing  comments  on  her  sudden 
accession  to  wealth.  But  the  dinner  had  to  be 
cooked,  and  recalling  herself  to  this  duty,  she 
ran  into  the  kitchen,  leaving  the  check  behind 
her  on  the  desk. 

"  It  is  all  right,"  said  Mr.  May,  when  she 
looked  for  it  later  in  the  evening.  "  I  put  it 
in  my  private  drawer." 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  is  safer  there,"  she  returned 
easily,  and  got  out  her  mending  basket,  hum 
ming  a  gay  tune,  more  light  of  heart  than  she 
had  been  in  many  a  day. 

The    next  day  was  Saturday,  and  she  had 


330  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

more  morning  work  to  do  than  usual,  but  she 
hurried  through  it,  and  by  half-past  ten  she 
had  her  hat  and  gloves  on  and  was  rummaging 
the  desk  for  her  check.  It  was  nowhere  to  be 
found. 

"  Impossible  that  it  could  have  been  stolen," 
she  exclaimed.  "Impossible!  It  was  not  in 
dorsed.  No  one  could  use  it,  even  if  a  thief 
had  made  his  way  in,  and  that  is  absurd  to 
think  of.  It  must  be  here." 

Only  when  every  paper  had  been  taken  out 
and  scrutinized  did  she  desist  from  her  search, 
and  almost  crying  with  vexation,  resigned  her 
self  to  await  her  husband's  return  and  ask  his 
advice. 

"  My  check  !  "  she  cried  breathlessly,  almost 
before  he  was  fairly  inside  the  door.  "  It  is 
gone  !  " 

He  turned  with  a  somewhat  puzzled  ex 
pression  at  her  excited  manner. 

<;  The  check?  Oh,  why,  that  is  all  right.  I 
put  it  in  the  bank  this  morning." 

"You  put  it  in  the  bank?  "  repeated  Laura 


AfRS.  MA  Y'S  P-RIVA  TE  INCOME  33 1 

slowly.  "  But  how  could  you  ?  It  was  not 
indorsed." 

"  I  indorsed  it,"  he  answered  rather  shortly, 
annoyed  at  all  this  explanation  about  a  mere 
matter  of  course.  Were  not  he  and  his  wife 
one,  and  was  not  everything  in  common  be 
tween  them  ?  It  had  not  entered  his  head  for 
a  single  instant  that  there  was  anything  amiss 
about  a  procedure  that  was  to  Laura  a  veri 
table  thunderbolt. 

She  stood  for  a  moment  with  her  eyes  low 
ered,  ashamed  for  him  who  thought  of  nothing 
less  than  of  being  ashamed  for  himself.  It 
was  impossible  to  reproach  him  ;  he  was  a  man 
whom  a  breath  of  censure  hardened  into  rock. 
While  the  sunshine  of  applause  and  sympathy 
shone  upon  him  he  was  debonair  and  charming, 
but  the  first  chilling  breath  of  blame  brought 
all  the  ice  in  his  nature  to  the  surface.  She 
had  experienced  the  change ;  she  dared  not 
encounter  it.  Besides,  it  was  not  in  this  first 
instant  of  a  new  revelation  of  his  creed  that 
she  was  to  feel  all  the  sense  of  his  moral  flexi- 


33 2  SOUTHERN  HEA R  TS 

bility.  That  was  reserved  for  later,  when  her 
keen  instinct  of  justice  and  of  individual  rights 
had  been  outraged  again  and  again.  She  loved 
him.  To  win  a  smile  and  a  kind  word  from 
him  what  would  she  not  have  sacrificed  ?  The 
mere  trifle  of  money  was  nothing.  It  was  the 
feeling  of  having  been  unfairly  treated,  of  hav 
ing  been  not  considered  at  all  where  she  had 
every  right  to  consideration.  And  yet  the  want 
of  that  trifle  of  money  was  to  make  her  mis 
erable  for  a  long  time  to  come. 

It  was  hard  to  be  sweet  and  loving  all  day 
Sunday,  with  a  weight  of  suppressed  thought 
upon  her  mind,  but  forbearance  nourishes 
affection,  and  by  Monday  she  was  her  own 
tender,  submissive  self  again.  Besides,  it  had 
occurred  to  her  that  the  money  was  not  quite 
out  of  her  reach  ;  William  would  give  her  a 
check  if  she  asked  him  for  it. 

When  she  made  the  suggestion  he  readily 
assented,  and  made  out  one  to  her  for  five 
dollars  before  he  left  Monday  morning.  When 
she  timidly  broached  the  subject  again  he 


MXS.  MA  Y'S  PRIl  A  TE  INCOME  333 

looked  annoyed,  and  said  curtly  that  the  land 
lord  had  the  money. 

"  But —  began  Laura,  flushing  hotly, 
then  closed  her  lips  and  went  quietly  about 
her  work.  What  was  there  to  say  ?  The  land 
lord  had  to  be  paid,  of  course.  Only  some 
how,  she  had  thought  that  her  husband  would 
do  that,  as  he  had  always  managed  it  before. 

But  the  following  month  brought  Mr.  May 
increasing  ill-luck.  He  would  have  been  a 
generous  and  kindly  man  if  he  had  prospered, 
and  with  nothing  to  bring  it  to  the  surface  he 
might  have  gone  through  life,  his  lack  of  ster 
ling  principle  unsuspected.  He  could  be  gener 
ous  but  not  just ;  he  could  recognize  the  rights 
of  others — the  right  of  tradesmen  to  be  paid, 
the  rights  of  his  political  comrades  to  a  ful 
filment  of  his  promises  to  them — if  everything 
went  well  with  himself.  But  to  tell  the  truth 
in  the  teeth  of  disaster,  to  face  an  irate  cred 
itor,  to  climb  down  from  his  height  of  vain  am 
bition  and  lay  to  heart  that  vow  of  duty  his 
childish  lips  had  uttered  at  his  mother's  knee 


334  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

— "  To  labor  truly  to  get  my  own  living,  and 
do  my  duty  in  that  state  of  life  to  which  it 
shall  please  God  to  call  me  " — this  was  what 
William  May  had  not  it  in  him  to  perform. 
And  his  wife,  with  her  clear  moral  sense,  her 
unbending  Puritan  conscience,  was  doomed  to 
see  him  fail. 

It  was  not  the  loss  of  her  money  that  pained 
her  so  much  when  on  the  next  pay-day  she 
handed  him  her  check  in  very  pity  and 
sorrow  for  his  "bad  luck."  It  was  the  feeling 
that  do  what  she  would,  work  as  she  might, 
they  would  never  be  any  better  off.  And  the 
still  more  dreary  revelation  that  as  her  energy 
was  more  feverishly  applied  his  diminished. 
The  more  earnest  and  eager  she  grew  to  pay 
off  their  increasing  debts  and  establish  system 
in  their  ways,  the  more  careless  he  became. 

She  furbished  up  her  wedding  gown  and 
made  engagements  to  sing  at  parlor  enter 
tainments.  She  gave  private  lessons.  And 
she  made  money.  Some  of  it  she  handled 
herself,  but  most  of  it  was  "put  in  the  bank," 


MA'S.  MA  Y'S  PRIVA  TE  INCOME          335 

and  drawn  out  for  a  strange  purpose  :  one  she 
disapproved  and  disbelieved  in  utterly,  but 
could  not  positively  oppose. 

He  was  so  boyishly  eager  about  it,  so  con 
fident  of  his  success.  Through  activity  un 
precedented  and  maneuverings  he  did  not 
care  to  remember,  Mr.  May  had  been  put  up 
for  State  senator  from  his  district,  and  in  all 
the  bustle  of  officering  small  meetings  and 
petty  "  bossing,"  his  spirits  were  so  high,  and 
he  was  so  good-humored  and  affectionate  that 
his  wife  had  not  the  heart  to  tell  him  that  this 
was  the  worst  waste  of  time  in  which  he  had 
yet  engaged.  For  to  her  sane,  cautious  mind 
it  was  apparent  from  the  first  that  he  had  not 
the  shadow  of  a  chance  of  being  elected. 

It  happened  that  on  the  very  eve  of  the 
election  she  was  engaged  to  sing  at  Carnegie 
Hall.  He  could  not  possibly  spare  time  to 
take  her,  and  she  went  down  alone,  in  a  car. 
Her  eyes  were  very  bright  and  a  spot  of  color 
burned  in  each  cheek.  She  was  beautiful,  with 
the  beauty  of  spirit  that  has  triumphed  over 


336  SOUTHERN    HEARTS 

flesh.  But  a  physician  in  the  audience  whis 
pered  to  his  wife  that  that  lovely  woman  was 
far  along  in  consumption.  "  And  she  will  go 
quick,  too,  poor  thing !  " 

The  troublesome  cough  which  she  had  neg 
lected  all  winter  annoyed  her  more  than  usual 
going  home,  but  she  was  rather  shocked  than 
grieved  when  in  the  middle  of  the  night  a 
hemorrhage  came  on.  Life  was  growing  hard 
and  duty  perplexing.  But  sheer  force  of  will 
and  affection  made  her  seem  better  next  day, 
and  she  would  not  hear  of  her  husband  staying 
with  her.  He  was  pledged  to  appear  elsewhere 
and  she  made  him  go.  He  did  not  come  in 
till  after  midnight,  and  then — she  sat  up  in 
sudden  terror,  listening  to  that  stumbling  step, 
those  mumbling  speeches  !  It  was  not  only 
his  election  that  May  had  lost  that  night ;  his 
manhood  had  followed. 

Laura  turned  her  face  to  the  wall.  Was  life 
to  hold  this  new  horror  ?  Ah,  that  she  might 
escape  the  next  day,  with  its  shame,  its  sorrow 
and  its  pitiful  regrets.  But  what  she  expected 


MRS.  MA  Y'S  PRIVA  TE  INCOME  337 

did  not  come.  May  was  constitutionally  in 
capable  of  confessing  himself  at  fault.  He 
slept  off  his  intoxication  and  did  not  get  up 
until  he  'vas  quite  himself  again,  cool  and  non 
committal. 

"  Bad  luck  again,  girlie,"  he  said  with  an 
assumption  of  indifference.  "  I  can't  make  you 
Mrs.  Senator  this  time." 

"  Poor  Will !  "  the  wife  murmured.  "  I  am 
sorry,  dear." 

"  You  are  better  ?  "  he  asked  hastily,  struck 
with  her  expression.  "  You  must  have  the 
doctor." 

It  was  a  tardy  suggestion,  and  Laura  smiled 
sadly.  The  doctor  came,  however.  But  all 
he  could  do  was  to  hold  out  those  vague  hopes 
which  are  no  comfort  to  anxious  hearts.  Be 
fore  long  her  mother  was  sent  for,  but  the 
dread  disease  did  its  rapid  work.  Laura's 
great  trial  to  the  last  was  the  terrible  sense  of 
responsibility  that  haunted  her  about  the  ex 
penses  that  werje  being  incurred. 

"When   I   am  not  here,  mother,  what  will 

22 


338  SO  UTHEKN  HE  A  R  TS 

he  do?  Poor  fellow,  nobody  understands  him 
but  me." 

A  little  while  afterwards  she  aroused  herself 
from  a  fit  of  musing  and  murmured  : 

"  This  awful  feeling  of  helplessness  ! — and  I 
tried  so  hard  to  set  things  right.  I  thought 
when  I  had  a  little  income  of  my  own  that 
everything  would  go  well." 

"  You  have  killed  yourself,"  said  her  mother, 
darting  a  look  of  reproach  at  the  unconscious 
husband,  who  entered  the  room  at  this  mo 
ment. 

"  Oh,  no,  don't  say  that,"  Laura  whispered. 
"  I  only  did  what  I  wanted  to  do.  Will  and  I 

have  been  very  happy,  only "  But  neither 

the  mother  nor  the  husband,  bending  OVM  the 
bed,  heard  the  rest  of  the  sentence. 


THE  LAZIEST  GIRL  IN  VIRGINIA 


THE  LAZIEST  GIRL  IN  VIRGINIA.* 


UPON  the  Virginia  side  of  the  Potomac 
River,  five  miles  across  from  Washington  City 
whose  twinkling  lights  can  be  distinctly  seen  by 
night,  lies  a  little  farm  of  about  twenty-five  acres, 
owned  by  a  widow  and  her  three  daughters, 
Caroline,  Minnie  and  Rosa. 

The  dwelling  is  a  villa  rather  than  a  farm 
house,  with  wide  verandas  that  are  the  favorite 
sitting-rooms  of  the  family  in  summer.  The 
glimpse  they  catch  of  the  river  traffic  and  of 
the  far-off  city  gives  them  a  cheerful  feeling  of 
nearness  to  active  life,  while  they  are  removed 
from  its  noise  and  crowds. 

Besides  this  property  Widow  Jones  had  found 
herself  possessed,  at  her  husband's  death,  of  an 
immense  tract  of  unproductive  land  down  on 
Chesapeake  Bay  which  could  not  be  sold  until 

1  Copyright,  1896,  by  "  The  Independent." 

341 


342  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

Rosa,  the  younger  girl,  now  eighteen,  came  of 
age.  Meanwhile,  the  taxes  vexed  her  soul. 

Hospitable,  easy-going  and  accustomed  to 
consider  luxuries  positive  necessities,  the  family 
would  have  been  severely  straitened  if  it  had 
not  been  for  the  nicety  with  which  their  various 
talents  helped  one  another  out. 

Caroline  had  excellent  business  ability  and 
managed  all  the  outside  affairs.  She  drew  the 
dividends  on  their  railway  stock,  parleyed  with 
lawyers,  and  engaged  and  settled  with  the  hired 
men.  In  the  burning  August  weather,  when  a 
dozen  red-shirted  Negroes  were  to  be  cared  for, 
this  slender  young  girl,  in  flaring  straw  hat  and 
short  gingham  dress,  mounted  her  horse  and 
rode  up  and  down  the  fields,  a  keen-eyed,  cheery, 
sweet-voiced  overseer.  Regardless  of  her  own 
meals  she  helped  old  black  Jessie  prepare  the 
meals  for  the  men  in  the  little  cabin,  and  there 
was  no  complaint  as  to  quality  or  quantity 
under  her  liberal  rule.  She  did  the  marketing 
also  and  bought  the  other  supplies.  Then 
Mrs.  Jones  took  up  the  work,  and  her  deft  fingers 


THE  LAZIEST  GIRL  IN  VIRGINIA        343 

and  good  taste  converted  crude  materials  into 
food  and  raiment  for  the  quartet.  She  was  a 
notable  housekeeper  and  the  best  of  neighbors, 
her  round,  jolly  visage  being  sure  to  appear  at 
every  moment  of  need,  and  her  chicken  broth 
and  jellies  lingered  pleasantly  in  the  memory 
of  the  fretful  convalescent. 

Minnie's  function  was  the  care  of  all  the  live 
animals  on  the  farm.  She  had  unerring  judg 
ment  concerning  mules  and  horses,  understood 
the  peculiarities  of  cows,  and  knew  everything 
worth  knowing  about  poultry  and  bees.  She 
was  a  plump,  happy-looking  blonde,  with  a 
lovely  hand,  a  neat  foot,  and  a  playfully  witty 
tongue  that,  like  her  own  bees,  never  stung  the 
wise  but  kept  fools  at  bay.  Alert  and  busy 
from  morning  till  night  she  gave  no  thought  to 
the  admirers  who  sighed  for  her  smiles,  but 
laughingly  turned  them  over  to  Rosa,  who  had, 
she  said,  nothing  else  to  do  but  to  make  herself 
charming. 

Rosa  was  the  strongest  possible  contrast  to 
her  energetic  sisters.  Rarely  beautiful,  and 


3  44  so  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

gifted  with  an  artistic  faculty  that  nearly  ap 
proached  genius,  she  was  apparently  utterly  de 
void  of  ambition  or  sense  of  responsibility,  and 
was  content  to  be  waited  upon  and  cared  for 
as  if  she  was  still  the  petted  infant  whose  graces 
had  at  the  outset  won  the  willing  service  of 
every  one  about  her. 

Her  form  was  of  medium  height,  but  so  sym 
metrical  that  she  appeared  taller  than  she  was. 
Her  head  was  borne  on  her  full,  white  throat 
with  a  sort  of  dreamy  grace,  bent  it  almost 
seemed  by  the  weight  of  her  magnificent  tresses, 
the  color  of  ripe  wheat  when  the  sun  is  shining 
upon  it,  and  falling  a  quarter  of  a  yard  below 
her  waist.*  Her  eyes  were  of  a  deep,  dark 
brown,  with  the  softness  of  a  Newfoundland 
dog's  when  he  is  gazing  wistfully  at  his  master. 
It  would  have  been  as  impossible  to  say  any 
thing  harsh  to  Rosa,  when  she  opened  those 
great  dark  eyes  and  looked  at  you,  as  it  would 
be  to  strike  a  dove  or  a  gazelle  or  a  sweet 
young  baby.  Usually  the  heavy,  blue-veined 
lids  half  veiled  them,  and  as  her  seashell  cheeks 


THE  LAZIEST  GIRL  IN  VIRGINIA       345 

warmed  to  their  pinkest  tone,  and  her  exquisite 
bow  of  a  mouth  fell  slightly  apart,  as  she  lay, 
as  she  loved  to  do,  in  the  hammock  on  the  west 
veranda,  an  artist  would  have  thought  her  the 
very  embodiment  of  love's  young  dream  of 
sweet,  maidenly  beauty. 

She  seemed  all  softness  and  gentleness.  Per 
haps  only  her  mother  knew  what  strength  of 
will  and  temper  lay  behind  Rosa's  placid  brow 
and  square  little  chin.  There  had  been  some 
stout  tussels  between  a  determined  little  mother 
and  a  rosebud  of  a  baby  in  the  years  gone  by  ; 
and  although  the  match  might  have  seemed 
an  unequal  one,  the  result  had  always  been  the 
same.  "  A  compromise,"  Major  Jones  had 
laughingly  called  it,  meaning,  as  he  explained 
once  in  a  candid  moment,  that  the  rosebud  had 
its  own  way. 

Rosa's  way  was  only  passively,  not  actively 
objectionable.  All  she  asked  was  to  be  let 
alone;  allowed  to  paint  undisturbed  in  her  un 
tidy  attic  studio  when  the  whim  seized  her, 
and  to  lie  in  the  hammock  like  a  kitten,  dozing 


346  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

the  hours  away  when  she  did  not  choose  to 
exert  herself.  Occasionally  she  would  have 
spells  of  helpfulness,  and  for  several  days  her 
stool  and  box  of  colors  would  be  set  up  beside 
the  parlor  or  dining-room  doorway,  while  she 
decorated  the  pannels  with  sprays  of  wistaria 
and  masses  of  fern,  so  true  to  nature  that  one 
wondered  where  a  little  country  girl  had  ever 
learned  to  paint  after  such  a  manner. 

One  warm  afternoon  in  early  September  she 
was' sitting  on  her  stool  in  the  hall,  which  ran 
through  the  middle  of  the  house  from  end  to 
end,  putting  slow,  effective  touches  to  a  border 
above  the  dado  which  she  had  begun  in  the 
spring,  and  with  characteristic  indifference  had 
left  unfinished  until  now.  Caroline,  just  in 
from  a  tour  to  the  orchard,  had  thrown  herself 
down  upon  the  settee  to  rest,  and  was  exchang 
ing  remarks  with  her  mother  about  a  certain 
dress  trimming  which  the  elder  lady  had  under 
way  when  she  suddenly  broke  off  to  exclaim  : 

"  If  there  isn't  Mr.  Brent  coming,  and  not  a 
speck  of  meat  in  the  house  !  Now,  I  suppose 


THE  LAZTEST  CTRL  tN  VIRGINIA     347 

I  shall  have  to  go  to  town  to  market.  I  should 
think  it  was  enough  for  him  to  be  here  every 
Sunday  and  Wednesday,  without  dropping 
upon  us  between  whiles." 

"  Let  Jessie  kill  a  chicken,"  suggested  Mrs. 
Jones,  soothingly. 

"  But  you  know  he  doesn't  eat  chickens.  If 
he  was  like  any  civilized  American  he  would. 
But  nothing  except  a  round  of  raw  beef  satis 
fies  his  English  appetite  !  " 

But  despite  this  small  grumble,  she  smiled 
cordially  as  a  good-looking,  middle-aged  man 
with  a  vigorous,  florid  face,  set  off  by  a  pair  of 
heavy  black  whiskers,  came  briskly  up  the  path 
and  included  all  of  them  in  a  general,  informal 
bow. 

"  Do  you  like  omelet  ?  "  she  asked  reflec 
tively,  as  he  took  a  seat  near  Rosa,  and  began 
commenting  upon  her  work  with  an  easy  cen 
sorship  which  was  evidently  not  disagreeable 
to  her. 

He  gave  a  little  shudder.  " '  I'll  no  pullet 
sperm  in  my  brew/  "  he  quoted. 


348  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

"  Oh,  I  might  have  known  you  for  a  Fal- 
staff,"  retorted  Caroline,  rising.  "Well, 
Mamma,  I'm  off." 

"  Not  on  my  account,  Miss  Caroline.  See 
here,  I've  brought  my  animal  diet  with  me, 
knowing  that  you  ladies  subsist  on  tea  and  fruit 
when  I'm  not  about."  And  from  his  coat 
pocket  he  drew  a  roll  of  brown  paper,  three- 
quarters  of  a  yard  long,  and  held  it  out. 

"  Prime  bologna,"  he  added,  complacently,  as 
both  mother  and  daughter  laughed  heartily, 
and  Rosa  turned  to  give  one  of  her  slow,  sweet 
smiles. 

Brent  was  a  "  family  friend."  The  major 
had  made  his  acquaintance  at  his  club  and 
brought  him  home  to  dine  one  day  when  Rosa 
was  a  winsome,  tumbling  baby ;  and  although 
he  had  grown  grayer  and  stouter  during  the 
years  he  had  been  coming  out  to  the  farm, 
ostensibly  to  oversee  Rosa's  painting— for 
which  he  never  would  hear  of  compensation — 
he  had  not  faltered  in  a  certain  purpose  con 
ceived  soon  after  that  first  visit,  and  as  unsus- 


THE  LAZIEST  GIRL  IN  VIRGINIA        349 

pected  by  Mrs.  Jones  and  her  two  elder 
daughters  as  it  was  patent  to  Rosa  herself. 

There  were  some  rare  affinities  between  them, 
even  aside  from  their  painting.  Brent's  British 
phlegm  was  mellowed  by  a  luxuriance  of  im 
agination  that  he  had  inherited  from  an  East 
Indian  mother.  His  temperament  was  a  mix 
ture  of  vigor,  warmth  and  languor  ;  and  while 
he  was  not  in  the  least  degree  adaptable,  he 
had  a  faculty  of  changing  the  atmosphere  of  a 
company  to  suit  himself  ;  so  that  if  others  were 
not  pleased  it  seemed  to  be  they,  not  he,  who 
was  out  of  place.  If  they  yielded  up  their  in 
dividuality  to  his,  well  and  good  ;  if  not,  they 
dropped  out  of  the  talk ;  that  was  all.  Brent 
was  a  fluent  and  entertaining  talker.  He  liked 
to  tell  stories  of  tiger  hunts  and  other  jungle 
pastimes  ;  and  Rosa,  reclining  with  her  dreamy 
eyes  half  shut,  liked  to  listen  and  feel  herself 
pleasantly  thrilled  and  excited  without  other 
necessity  than  to  give  up  her  mind  to  follow 
where  he  led. 

Her  education  had  been  desultory  and  su- 


350  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

perficial.  Brent  had  played  the  largest  part  in 
it,  and  he  had  molded  her  nature  at  his  pleasure 
by  catering  to  certain  biases  that  he  had  per 
ceived  to  be  unchangeable,  and  for  the  rest 
giving  her  the  side  of  life  and  affairs  which  he 
preferred  her  to  believe.  What  other  experi 
ences  he  had  had  besides  those  he  chose  to  tell 
them,  these  innocent  women  neither  conjec 
tured  nor  troubled  themselves  to  inquire.  It 
was  enough  that  he  had  been  "  the  major's 
friend." 

He  had  lodgings  in  town,  but  his  landlady 
scarcely  ever  saw  him  ;  for  when  he  was  not 
roaming  around  upon  one  of  his  sketching  tours 
he  seemed  to  live  in  the  Corcoran  Art  Gallery, 
where  Rosa  painted  under  his  superintendence 
several  hours  each  week.  He  had  really  de 
voted  himself  to  the  girl's  development  with  a 
zeal  beyond  what  would  have  appeared  to  be 
necessary  in  the  "  family  friend."  Perhaps 
Rosa  thanked  him  in  private,  for  she  never  did 
so  before  the  others.  She  treated  him  always 
with  the  same  indolent  familiarity,  and  accepted 


THE  LAZIEST  GIRL  IN  VIRGINIA        351 

his  advice,  his  help  and  his  devotion  as  a  mere 
matter  of  course ;  but  she  generally  did  as  he 
bade  her. 

This  afternoon  she  continued  to  fill  in  her 
charcoal  outlines  until  she  grew  tired,  and  then, 
dropping  her  brushes,  slipped  to  a  cushion  and, 
crossing  her  hands  behind  her  head,  leaned  back 
and  looked  up  at  him  like  a  weary  seraph. 

"  Lazy  child,"  said  Brent,  smiling,  and  taking 
her  dropped  brushes.  "  That  stem  is  well  done, 
Rosa ;  but  I  want  you  to  leave  flowers  for  a 
while  and  begin  on  that  study  of  the  nurse  and 
child.  It  is  time  for  you  to  begin  to  think  less 
of  technic  and  study  the  masters.  I  wish  you 
could  go  abroad  now." 

"  You  have  made  me  think  of  nothing  but 
technic,"  said  the  girl. 

"  Certainly.  There  are  many  stages  in  art, 
and  that  is  the  preliminary  one.  But  you  are 
now  to  make  an  advance.  How  little  you  real 
ize  your  advantages.  If  I  had  your  genius!  " 

"  I  realize  one  advantage — having  you  for  a 
teacher,"  she  said  in  a  low  tone. 


352  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

The  others  had  dropped  away,  and  they  were 
by  themselves. 

Brent  moved  closer  to  her.  "  Have  you 
thought  of  what  I  talked  to  you  about?" 

"  It's  no  use  to  talk  about  that ;  I  rather 
think  they  expect  me  to  make  a  great  match, 
some  time.  Mamma  wouldn't  consider  you 
eligible,  you  know,"  she  drawled,  softly,  with 
smooth,  matchless  insolence. 

Brent  looked  at  her  with  an  expression  she 
did  not  understand  ;  but  she  never  troubled 
.  herself  about  what  was  beyond  her  easy  com 
prehension.  And  herein  Brent  had  vastly  the 
advantage ;  he  understood  her  to  the  depths  of 
her  nature,  and  he  knew  perfectly  that  he  had 
made  himself  an  essential  part  of  her  existence. 
But  he  was  wise  enough  to  b?  patient.  For 
the  present  he  allowed  her  to  waive  the  subject 
aside  ;  nor  did  he  betray  even  by  the  quiver  of 
an  eyelash  that  she  had  wounded  his  self-love. 
Indeed,  their  temperaments  were  much  alike, 
and  neither  one  was  troubled  with  sensitive 
ness,  Of  the  two  the  robust,  mastiff-like  man 


THE  LAZIEST  GIRL  IN  VIRGINIA       353 

had  more  than  the  brown-eyed  angel,  who  now 
took  to  the  hammock  and  left  him  to  finish  her 
work ;  for  it  was  as  natural  for  him  to  work  as 
it  was  for  her  to  be  idle. 

"  You  must  get  settled  in  town  early  this 
fall,"  he  said  to  the  mother,  when  the  family 
had  assembled  again  on  the  veranda  after  din 
ner.  "  I  have  laid  out  a  good  winter's  work 
for  Rosa  at  the  gallery,  and  I  want  her  to  start 
as  soon  as  possible." 

"  Mr.  Brent,  I  admire  your  coolness,"  com 
mented  Caroline.  "  If  you  expect  Rosa  to  put 
in  a  steady  winter's  work  you  must  have  sud 
denly  created  a  remarkable  change  in  her." 

"  I  really  don't  see  how  we  are  to  go  to  town 
at  all  this  winter,"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  wrinkling 
her  pretty  forehead.  "  The  Parleys  haven't  yet 
positively  pledged  themselves  to  take  the  place, 
as  we  depended  on  their  doing  ;  and  of  course 
we  can't  go  unless  we  let  this  house." 

"  Oh,  the  Parleys  will  take  the  place,"  said 
Brent  confidently.  "  And  there  is  a  nice  little 

house  on  "  H  "  Street  that  will  be  vacant  about 
23 


354  SOUTHERN  HEA R  TS 

the  first  of  October.  I  wish  you  would  go  in 
to-morrow  and  look  at  it." 

"  Give  me  the  address,"  said  Caroline.  "  I 
have  to  go  in  town  to-morrow,  and  I'll  take  a 
peep  at  it.  Then,  if  it  seems  worth  while  for 
you  to  take  the  trouble,  mamma  dear,  you  can 
go  in  next  week." 

"  Only  don't  let  it  slip  through  your  fingers," 
counseled  Brent.  "  Rosa,  don't  you  want  to 
take  a  little  walk  up  the  hill  and  see  the  sun 
set  ?  " 

"  Get  the  wheelbarrow  !  "  said  Minnie,  briskly. 
"  You'll  never  get  Rosa  to  climb  the  hill." 

But  Brent  continued  to  look  smilingly  at 
Rosa,  and,  somewhat  to  their  surprise,  she  got 
up  and  went  with  him.  As  they  began  to 
climb  the  gentle  slope  he  took  hold  of  her  arm, 
and  she  leaned  against  him  with  the  same  un 
concern  with  which  she  would  have  accepted 
aid  from  one  of  her  sisters.  They  were  gone 
half  an  hour,  and  when  they  came  back  a  close 
observer  might  have  noted  a  satisfied  look  in 
Brent's  face,  He  had  made  a  slight,  very 


THE  LAZIEST  GIRL  IN  VIRGINIA        355 

slight,  advance  in  his  plans,  whatever  they 
were. 

It  was  in  accordance  with  them  that  the 
family  moved  into  the  little  house  on  "  H  " 
Street  within  a  fortnight.  Every  afternoon  saw 
Rosa  seated  before  a  Corot  in  the  main  gallery 
of  the  Corcoran  Art  Building,  and  for  at  least 
two  hours  she  was  busily  occupied.  Just  how  it 
came  about  no  one  could  have  said.  Perhaps 
Rosa  herself  was  not  aware  of  the  tightening 
of  a  leash  which  had  been  woven  securely 
about  her,  and  that  had  guided  and  now  held 
her  to  certain  duties.  Once,  as  he  sat  beside 
her,  painting  away  upon  his  small  canvas  with 
those  minute,  exquisite  touches  which  charac 
terized  his  style,  Brent  said,  with  some  signifi 
cance  :  • 

"  You  work  very  well  under  direction,  Rosa  ; 
but  you  wouldn't  set  a  stroke  if  I  were  not 
here,  would  you  ?  " 

She  laughed,  and  turned  her  eyes  upon  him  in 
quiringly.  "  Wouldn't  I  ?  "  she  asked ;  "  ah,  well, 
perhaps  not.  But  then,  you  see,  you  are  here," 


35 6  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

"  You  have  grown  so  used  to  having  me  al 
ways  at  hand,  that  you  couldn't  get  on  at  all 
without  me,  could  you  ?  " 

"  Get  on  without  you  ? "  she  repeated. 
"  Why,  I  never  thought  of  it." 

The  next  day  he  let  her  think  of  it.  For  a 
week  he  was  absent  on  a  sketching  tour.  When 
he  returned  he  discovered  that  she  had  taken  a 
vacation  also  ;  and  then,  for  the  first  time  in 
her  life,  he  said  a  few  stern  words  to  her.  They 
were  very  few,  and  without  any  hint  of  anger ; 
but  the  girl  crimsoned,  and  opened  her  eyes 
pathetically.  Any  other  man  would  have  been 
self-condemned  ;  but  Brent,  while  instantly  re 
suming  his  usual  manner,  did  not  lessen  the 
effect  of  his  rebuke  ;  and  from  this  time  her 
manner  toward  him  began  tojmdergo  a  change. 
It  was  imperceptible  to  others,  but  apparent  to 
Brent.  She  was  no  longer  so  sweetly  insolent 
to  him  ;  she  was  more  timid,  more  tractable ; 
and  she  attended  more  steadily  to  her  work, 
seeming  to  set  a  new  value  upon  the  praise  of 
which  he  had  always  been  lavish. 


THE  LAZIEST  GIRL  IN  VIRGINIA        357 

The  winter  passed  and  the  enervating  air  of 
April  crept  over  the  city.  One  afternoon  Rosa 
threw  down  her  brushes  petulantly,  exclaiming 
that  she  could  not  make  another  stroke. 

Brent  quietly  gathered  her  implements  and 
his  own  and  stored  them  neatly  away.  Then 
he  laid  his  hand  over  hers  and  said,  in  a  per 
fectly  matter-of-fact  tone  : 

"  Let's  go  and  get  married,  Rosa  ?  " 

For  a  minute  they  looked  at  one  another  in 
silence.  Then  her  eyes  dropped  to  her  dress, 
a  pink  print,  fresh  and  crisp  under  the  great 
gray  apron  which  she  had  begun  to  untie. 

"  What !     In  a  calico  dress?"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  just  as  you  are;  and  now." 

"What  will  they  say  at  home?" 

"  Think  how  much  trouble  we  are  going  to 
save  your  mother.  We  will  tell  them  this 
evening.  Come,  Rosa,  I  have  been  waiting  for 
you  a  good  many  years ;  don't  keep  me  wait 
ing  any  longer." 

"It  is  dreadfully  absurd,"  she  observed. 
"  What  will  you  do  with  me  ?  " 


358  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

"  Take  you  abroad  next  week,  and  when  we 
come  back  settle  you  down  in  the  prettiest 
little  house  you  ever  saw.  I  have  bought  one 
up  on  Capitol  Hill,  and  you  shall  be  its  little 
mistress." 

"  I  don't  like  housekeeping,"  remarked  Rosa ; 
but  she  was  walking  with  him  toward  the  door. 
Suddenly  she  stopped.  "  We  can't  get  married 
without  a  license,  can  we  ?  " 

"  I  have  the  license,"  said  Brent,  touching  his 
waistcoat  pocket.  "  I  got  it  yesterday." 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  she  said,  pouting  a  little, 
"  You  were  rather  premature.  How  did  you 
know  I  would  have  you  ?  " 

"  I  believed  in  my  lucky  star.  We  were 
meant  for  each  other,  my  dear." 

She  was  silent  after  this.  They  walked  half- 
a-dozen  squares  and  stopped  before  a  house 
next  to  a  church.  As  Brent  rang  the  bell  he 
saw  that  the  girl  was  trembling  slightly,  and  he 
lost  no  time  in  getting  her  into  the  parlor, 
where  a  puzzled  minister  came  to  them  a  mo 
ment  or  so  later.  Brent  explained  and  produced 


THE  LAZIEST  GIRL  IN  VIRGINIA        359 

the  license.  Rosa  was  nineteen  and  her  father 
was  not  living.  There  was  no  delay,  and  in 
the  presence  of  the  minister's  wife  and  daughter 
(who  took  the  bride  for  a  pretty  servant  girl 
and  were  condescending)  the  ceremony  was 
performed.  But  for  the  heavy  ring  that  en 
circled  her  finger  the  girl  might  have  believed 
that  she  was  dreaming,  as  Brent  drew  her  out 
of  the  house  again  and  hailed  a  passing  horse- 
car  to  take  them  to  her  mother's  house. 

Minnie  opened  the  door,  and  through  the 
dusk  her  quick  eyes  perceived  something  un 
usual  in  her  sister ;  but  Brent,  giving  her  no 
time  for  questions,  drew  his  wife  into  the  little 
parlor,  where  the  widow  sat  with  her  sewing. 

"  Mrs.  Jones,"  he  said  calmly,  "  Rosa  and  I 
are  married."  As  she  got  up  hastily,  the  color 
rushing  to  her  face,  he  added,  "  I  believe  my 
old  friend  the  major  would  not  have  refused  to 
give  me  his  daughter." 

It  was  a  stroke  of  genius.  Instead  of  utter 
ing  the  angry  words  upon  her  lips  the  widow 
fell  back  upon  her  chair,  crying.  The  major, 


360  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

dead,  was  not  less  the  family  oracle  ;  and  even 
the  girls,  who  had  burst  into  exclamations,  and 
were  not  to  be  repressed  for  half  an  hour  or  so, 
felt  that,  irregular  and  shocking  as  the  affair 
was,  yet  there  was  within  it  a  grain  of  amelio 
ration. 

"  But  that  she  should  have  got  married  in  a 
sixpenny  calico  !  "  exclaimed  Caroline,  tearfully. 
"  I  never  shall  get  over  that." 

"  I  will  buy  her  a  gown  or  two  in  Paris,"  said 
the  new  brother-in-law.  "  We  shall  sail  next 
week,  and  be  gone  a  year,  or  perhaps  longer." 

But  three  years  passed  before  the  little  house 
on  Capitol  Hill  had  to  be  vacated  by  its  tenant 
in  favor  of  the  owners,  who  walked  in  upon 
the  Jones  family  one  day,  when  the  harvest 
apples  were  ripe,  and  the  two  girls  sat  upon  the 
porch  of  the  farmhouse  paring  a  bowlful  of 
them  for  supper. 

"  What  is  the  change  in  Rosa?"  mother  and 
sisters  asked  each  other  when  the  pair  had  gone 
back  to  town  the  next  morning.  Mrs.  Brent 
was  even  more  beautiful  than  she  had  been  as 


THE  LAZIEST  GIRL  IN  VIRGINIA       361 

a  girl.  She  did  not  look  unhappy.  Yet  there 
was  a  difference. 

The  family  found  out  what  it  meant  when 
they  began  to  visit  the  little  house  in  town. 
Rosa  had  found  another  guide  than  her  own 
sweet  will.  She  no  longer  idled  the  days  away, 
but  sat  patiently  upon  her  little  stool  and 
painted  from  morning  till  late  in  the  afternoon, 
while  Brent — the  personification  of  vigilance — 
hovered  about,  pipe  in  mouth,  seeing  to  the 
thousand  and  one  things  about  the  house, 
which,  except  for  his  superintendence,  kept 
itself,  and  dividing  the  rest  of  his  attention 
between  Rosa's  canvas  and  his  own. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Caroline,  indignantly, 
"  that  Rosa — our  lazy  little  Rosa — has  made 
fifteen  hundred  dollars  the  past  year,  while 
Brent  has  only  made  three  hundred  ?  " 

"  That's  what  he  married  her  for,"  said 
Minnie,  with  a  rapid  inspiration.  "  I  wondered 
what  impelled  him.  I  thought  it  wasn't 
love." 

"  My  dear,  he  seems  very  fond  of  her,"  said 


362  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

Mrs.  Jones,  divided  between  a  wish  to  cry  and 
a  wish  to  make  the  best  of  it. 

"  He  is  fond  of  her,"  declared  Caroline,  "  and 
she's  fond  of  him.  But  if  ever  a  girl  found  a 
master  she  has.  He  makes  her  work  as  I  never 
expected  to  see  Rosa  work.  Not  at  house 
work,  dear  me,  no !  She  is  not  to  waste  her 
precious  strength  on  such  things.  She  is  to 
devote  herself  to  art,  which  is  to  make  her 
reputation  and  his  living.  That's  all  there  is 
to  it." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  not  the  worst  thing  that  could 
have  happened  to  her,"  mused  Minnie.  "  There 
is  a  kind  of  nature  that  needs  to  be  compelled 
to  make  the  best  of  itself." 

"  Don't  you  want  some  brute  of  an  English 
man  to  compel  you  to  make  the  best  of  your 
self  ?  "  snapped  Caroline. 

"  No,"  answered  Minnie,  quietly.  "  What 
would  do  for  Rosa  would  never  suit  me." 

"  Well,  I  think  we  had  better  go  in  and  take 
some  peaches  and  straighten  up  that  disorderly 
house,"  said  the  elder  sister. 


THE  LA/JEST  GIRL  IN  VIRGINIA         363 

They  found  Rosa  sitting  absorbed  over  a 
beautiful  screen  which  was  a  piece  of  ordered 
work,  to  cost  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  while- 
Brent  stood  at  the  kitchen  door,  smoking 
placidly  as  he  contemplated  a  tableful  of  un 
washed  dishes. 

"  Come  in,  sisters  both,"  he  said,  gaily. 
"  But  don't  stop  Rosa  just  now ;  she  hates  to 
be  interrupted  when  she  is  at  work." 


AN   AWAKENING 


AN   AWAKENING1 


"  AND  who  is  that  tall  young  man  in  the 
store,  who  stood  there  as  if  nothing  could  in 
duce  him  to  take  his  hands  from  his  pockets?" 

Miss  Stretton's  companion  looked  as  if  he 
were  mystified  by  her  scornful  tone.  "  That's 
Albert  Johnson,"  he  answered  in  his  matter-of- 
fact  way.  "  He's  only  been  back  hyar  about 
six  months.  A  couple  o'  years  ago  he  went 
down  to  Texas  and  made  about  five  hundred 
dollars,  and  then,  all  to  onct,  he  turned  up 
hyar  again.  He's  nephew  to  old  Johnson,  and 
stays  in  th'  store,  mostly." 

"  Doing  what?"  asked  Miss  Stretton,  crisply. 

"  Why,  doin'   whatever's   to  do,"   answered 

Jerry  Douglas  with  his  thin  laugh.     He  was  a 

tall,  bony  youth,  with  gray  eyes  and  a  delicate 

mouth.     Although    unformed    and    shy,  there 

1  Copyright,  1896,  by  "The  Independent." 

367 


368  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

was  a  hint  of  character  about  him  ;  which  was 
the  reason  why  Miss  Stretton  gave  him  the 
honor  of  her  company  that  morning  on  his 
trip  to  Stoneyton.  It  was  partly  in  pursuance 
of  her  amiable  wish  to  draw  him  out,  and  partly 
because  she  liked  the  ride  on  horseback.  She 
was  usually  talkative,  but  now  they  ambled 
along  the  dusty  pike  in  silence. 

"Ah — I  jest  thought  of  it,  Miss  Julia,"  Jerry 
said  suddenly.  "  Old  Johnson's  got  a  nice 
horse  he  might  let  you  have.  Bert's  been 
ridin'  it  since  he  come  back,  but  he  can't  want 
it  all  th'  time.  I'll  see  if  I  kin  git  it  fur  you, 
if  you  say  so." 

"  Of  course  I  say  so,  Jerry,"  retorted  Miss 
Stretton,  coming  out  of  her  brown  study  and 
turning  her  bright  blue  eyes  upon  him. 
"  And  why  didn't  you  think  of  it  before  ?  But 
I  know  it  takes  you  Virginia  young  men  a  long 
time." 

Young  Douglas  laughed  again  uneasily.  "  I 
s'pose  we're  ruther  backward  compared  to  th' 
men  you  know,  but  you  must  recollect  we've 


AN  A  WA  KEN  ING  369 

been  under  a  cloud  since  th'  war.  We  haven'* 
got  eddication,  and  consequently  we  feel  at  a 
disadvantage.  Me,  now,  I've  been  to  school, 
but  what  do  I  know  ?  Th'  only  thing's  fur  me 
to  go  ter  Texas." 

"  Yes,  and   make  a  little  money  and  come 

.  back  again  and   loaf  around  till  it  is  spent," 

commented  the  girl   inwardly.     But  she  said 

aloud,  "  Don't  be  disheartened,  Jerry.     It  isn't 

what  we  know  that  counts  ;  it's  what  we  do." 

"  What  I  want  t'  do  is  t'  make  money,"  Jerry 
muttered  ;  "  only  th'  people  home  won't  let  me 
go  'way." 

"  Your  time  will  come  if  you  don't  give  up, 
never  fear,"  she  returned  kindly,  as  they  rode 
up  to  the  stile  and  he  awkwardly  helped  her 
off  the  great  plow-horse. 

She  stood  at  the  gate  for  a  minute,  watching 
the  angular,  boyish  figure  lead  the  horse  to  the 
stable,  heard  the  rough  but  not  unkindly,  "  Go 
in  thar,  now,  Victor — stand,  sir  !  "  And  then 
all  was  still. 

In  front  of  the  low  frame-house  was  a  small, 
24 


370  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

trim  garden,  with  two  beds  of  red  geranium 
bordered  by  bits  of  whitened  oyster-shells. 
Behind,  lay  the  fields ;  to  the  left,  the  stable, 
pig-sty  and  orchard.  On  the  right,  was  an  un 
kempt  bit  of  woods,  thick  with  undergrowth. 
Some  day  they  were  going  to  cut  out  that  un 
dergrowth,  which  obstructed  the  fine  view  of 
the  hills  beyond. 

"  Some  day,"  mused  Miss  Stretton,  "  great 
things  are  to  be  done !  "  And  yet  she  was  not 
without  pity  as  she  contemplated  the  few  acres 
of  worn-out  land,  the  meager  cattle,  the  small, 
uncertain  fruit-crop  which  made  the  living  of 
the  worthy  lady,  Mrs.  Douglas,  and  her  slug 
gish,  semi-invalid  husband.  This  summer  they 
had  for  the  first  time  followed  the  example  of 
their  neighbors  and  augmented  their  income 
by  taking  two  summer  boarders ;  there  was  not 
room  for  more. 

Two  or  three  days  went  by,  and  Jerry  had 
apparently  done  nothing  about  the  horse. 
Miss  Stretton's  dearest  wish  was  to  hire  an 
animal  on  which  she  might  take  her  daily  rides 


AN  A  WA  KENING  3  7  x 

with  credit  to  herself  and  less  jarring  of  her 
bones.  The  great  beast  now  at  her  service 
resembled  some  creature  in  process  of  trans 
formation  to  some  other  species,  so  shambling, 
so  long-mouthed,  so  ashamed  of  his  own  ap 
pearance  did  he  seem.  But,  rendered  desperate 
by  Jerry's  procrastination,  she  mounted  Prince 
one  morning  and  turned  toward  the  village. 

"  You  have  shaken  me  to  pieces  —  you, 
Prince  !  "  she  said  reproachfully  as  she  stopped 
him  in  front  of  the  store. 

Stoneyton  was  perhaps  the  very  smallest  vil 
lage  ever  dignified  by  the  name.  There  was  a 
church,  the  store,  and  two  neighboring  houses, 
one  beside  the  store  and  one  just  across  the 
narrow  street.  Two  swaying  elms  almost  cov 
ered  this  space  with  their  low-hanging  branches, 
and  a  broken  wagon-shaft  lying  in  the  way 
made  it  difficult  for  a  vehicle  to  turn  there.  A 
cart  and  horse  now  stood  in  the  road,  its  driver 
absent.  There  was,  for  a  rarity,  no  one  on  the 
stoop ;  all  was  unusually  still ;  and  Miss  Stret- 
ton,  waiting  impatiently  until  the  driver  should 


372  SO  UTHEKN  HE  A  R  TS 

come  out  and  start  off,  leaving  the  road  again 
a  thoroughfare,  sat  still  on  her  tall  steed,  and 
let  her  eyes  roam  dreamily  around  on  the  well- 
known  but  ever-pleasing  landscape. 

The  customer  came  out,  and  with  her  came 
young  Mr.  Johnson,  who  stowed  away  her  par 
cels,  helped  her  into  the  wagon,  and  handed 
her  the  reins  before  he  turned  to  the  pretty 
girl  with  a  tinge  of  color  still  dyeing  his  brown 
cheek. 

"Is — your  uncle  in?"  asked  Miss  Stretton 
sweetly. 

He  was  very  sorry,  but  his  uncle  had  gone 
to  Port  Royal  that  morning  to  see  a  sick  sister. 
Could  he  do  anything  for  her? 

"  Well,"  she  said,  hesitating,  "  I  suppose  you 
might  do  just  as  well,  only — I  had  expected  to 
talk  with  your  uncle." 

Young  Johnson  looked  puzzled  but  admir 
ing.  It  was  the  admiration  in  his  splendid 
dark  eyes  that  embarrassed  her.  To  the  city 
girls  who  came  up  to  the  mountain  every  one 
of  these  little  country  stores,  and  every  farm 


AN  AWAKENING  373 

which  boasted  a  son  or  two  of  some  old,  im 
poverished  family,  furnished  an  escort  to  dances 
and  picnics,  and  the  beau  of  a  summer.  Miss 
Stretton  was  not  exempt  from  girlish  weak 
nesses,  and  as  the  handsome  countryman  stood 
there  waiting  for  her  probable  order  for  rib 
bons  or  candy  or  stationery,  she  wished  that 
she  could  settle  her  little  matter  of  business 
with  some  one  else. 

But  she  took  it  like  a  douche  at  last,  all  at 
once.  "  Jerry  told  me  that  your  uncle  has  a 
nice  riding-horse,  and  I  want  one  for  a  month 
or  so.  Would  he  hire  it  ?  Could  I  arrange 
the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  the  horse  is  mine,  in  fact.  Uncle 
made  a  present  of  it  to  me,"  explained  Albert, 
kicking  a  little  stone  in  the  road. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  the  young  lady.  The  affair  was 
now  a  nuisance  to  both  of  them.  For  her 
part,  she  felt  that,  if  she  proceeded,  there  must 
ensue  some  pecuniary  loss  in  the  transaction  ; 
she  must  be  large  and  uncalculating.  On  the 
other  hand,  Albert  shrank  from  the  mention  of 


374  SOUTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

dollars  and  cents,  although  if  the  matter  had 
been  conducted  through  a  third  party,  he  would 
not  have  hesitated  to  make  something  out  of 
the  Yankee  girl.  Being  a  Virginian,  he  could 
not  now  put  a  cool,  business  face  upon  it.  It 
occurred  to  him  that  he  would  like  to  drive  her 
down  to  the  hop  at  Berry ville  to-morrow  night. 
How  would  it  look  to  make  bargains  before 
tendering  an  invitation ! 

He  looked  up  and  down  the  road  ;  the  soft 
breeze  from  over  the  hills  just  rustled  the 
leaves,  the  low  grunt  of  a  porker  reached  their 
ears  from  around  the  house,  a  dog  barked 
somewhere,  but  no  figure  disturbed  the  scene  ; 
nobody  was  coming,  they  must  talk  it  out. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  interrogated  impatiently.  She 
looked  very  graceful  and  saucy.  He  glanced 
upward  and  caught  her  fleeting  smile. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  Miss  Stretton,"  he  said 
with  the  relief  of  an  inspiration,  "  you  mustn't 
make  bargains  in  the  dark.  Try  my  Sultana 
to-morrow,  and  if  she  goes  to  suit  you,  we'll 
talk  further." 


AN  AWAKENING  .575 

"  All  right,  Mr.  Johnson,  and  I'm  extremely 
obliged  to  you."  She  was  grateful  for  the  sug 
gestion  ;  Jerry  should  be  messenger  next  time. 

They  were  now  at  ease  and  could  look  one 
another  frankly  in  the  face.  Each  knew  the 
other  well  by  hearsay.  Who  did  not  know  of 
the  Johnson  family,  who  had  lived  on  the  same 
fine  old  place  for  a  hundred  years  and  more  ? 
And  to  which  of  the  inquisitive  natives  was  the 
affable  young  lady  a  stranger  when  she  had 
been  staying  for  a  fortnight  at  the  Douglas 
farm  ?  It  was  quite  conventional  for  them  to 
call  each  other  by  name  and  to  linger  a  few 
minutes  talking. 

She  rode  off  finally,  with  a  charming  smile, 
and  Albert  went  into  the  dingy  store  whistling, 
with  his  hands  in  his  pockets;  handsome  and 
lazy,  and  with  nothing  better  to  do  than  to  re 
cline  on  the  counter  and  recollect  each  detail  of 
the  conversation. 

The  next  morning  he  made  taking  the  horse 
over  an  excuse  for  a  call,  and  obtained  her  prom 
ise  to  go  with  him  to  the  hop.  Every  one 


376  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

went ;  the  road  was  gay  with  vehicles  of  every 
description,  and  on  the  ten-mile  drive  there  and 
back  their  acquaintance  grew  old.  If  Miss 
Stretton  knew  how  to  talk,  Albert  could  listen 
eloquently. 

Afterward  she  tried  to  recall  something  sen 
sible  and  original  in  his  talk,  which  would 
account  for  the  pleasure  she  had  taken  in  his 
company,  but  there  was  nothing  in  her  memory 
save  confused  impressions  of  what  he  must 
.have  meant. 

"What  a  shame,"  she  said  to  herself  vehe 
mently,  "  for  a  young  man  of  intelligence  and 
versatility — he  knows  many  things  and  could 
know  more  if  he  tried — to  be  playing  fifth 
wheel  to  a  coach  on  a  stupid  country  road — 
clerk  in  that  little  store  which  a  girl  of  twelve 
could  manage  alone  !  " 

And  as  soon  as  the  chance  came,  she  told 
him  this,  indirectly,  and  with  many  a  friendly 
ameliorating  glance.  Albert  took  her  lecture 
meekly.  It  came  one  morning  when  they  were 
riding  together.  She  had  found  Sultana  de- 


AN  A  WAKENING  377 

lightful,  and  he  had  made  a  joking  bargain,  let 
ting  her  ride  if  he  might  ride  with  her  when 
he  had  time  and  his  mother's  horse  could  be 
spared  from  the  farm.  And  so  this  little  matter 
was  adjusted  without  any  reference  to  money. 

It  was  rare  pleasure  to  the  city  girl  to  gallop 
over  the  open  country  of  a  fair  August  morn 
ing  before  the  sun  grew  red ;  the  fresh  breeze 
from  the  Blue  Ridges  colored  her  cheeks  and 
lighted  up  ,her  eyes,  while  it  filled  her  mind 
with  longings,  arousing  her  energy. 

"  It  is  energy  that  you  young  men  lack,"  she 
admonished  him  in  a  sweet,  deferential  tone. 
"  Energy  !  Chalk  it  up  on  the  fences,  and  spell 
it  out  as  you  saunter  along  these  dull  little 
country  lanes." 

Albert  thought  best  to  treat  it  as  a  joke,  but 
that  only  made  her  more  earnest.  Then  he 
changed  his  tactics,  and  met  the  reproach  by 
a  degree  of  .pathetic  admission  that  unsettled 
her. 

She  found  it  a  fascinating  pastime  to  chide 
this  handsome  idler  for  making  little  use  of  his 


378  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

abilities  and  she  longed  to  be  able  to  exert  a 
strongly  stimulating  influence.  But  when  he 
told  her  that,  on  the  whole,  he  enjoyed  his  life 
as  it  was  and  had  no  wish  to  change  it,  that 
there  was  virtue  in  contentment  and  that  he 
appreciated  his  lot,  much  as  she  seemed  to 
despise  it 

"  I  didn't  say  I  despised  it  !  "  she  exclaimed, 
abashed,  her  airy  ambitions  seeming  for  an  in 
stant  less  grand.  But  when  she  looked  at  her 
young  Alcibiades,  lost  in  the  luxury  of  peace, 
she  pined  to  send  him  forth  among  men  to  do 
battle  for  the  things  men  care  to  win.  And 
yet  the  girl  had  such  tact  that  her  touch  did 
not  irritate.  The  young  Southerner  felt  her 
thrilling  tones  move  him  pleasantly ;  she  cooled 
his  languid  breath  like  a  fresh  North  wind  com 
ing  in  the  summer  heat.  Throughout,  his  face 
wore  the  same  look  of  rich,  indolent  peace. 
One  day,  however,  he  opened  his  splendid,  dark 
eyes  wide,  and  asked  her  just  what  she  would 
have  a  man  do  to  prove  himself  a  man. 

Miss  Stretton  was  as  vague  and  inexperienced 


AN  A  WA  KENIXG  379 

as  women  usually  are  who  urge  exiraordinary 
feats  upon  men  in  whom  they  are  interested. 
But  not  to  seem  foolish,  she  took  the  matter 
into  consideration. 

• 

"  I'll  give  you  time,"  he  said,  laughing  when 
she  hesitated,  "  but — you  have  been  so  hard  on 
me,  Miss  Julia,  that  I  really  must  press  the 
question  home." 

After  this  she  listened  to  the  reports  about 
him,  and  heard  much  of  his  sweet  temper  under 
provocation — to  which,  she  owned,  she  herself 
could  testify — of  his  kindness  of  heart,  his 
courage,  his  goodness  to  his  feeble  mother. 
The  country  people  relied  upon  him  ;  his  moral 
character  was  spotless.  Yet,  even  while  she 
learned  to  admire  him,  she  was  not  satisfied. 
Seeing  her  gem  thus  proved  real,  made  her 
the  more  determined  to  bring  out  its  luster. 

His  question  was  carried  gravely  in  her  mind, 
and  she  forbore  to  resume  the  subject  until 
she  could  say  something  wise  and  practical. 

They  met  often,  there  were  so  many  affairs 
during  the  summer  to  bring  them  together, 


380  SOUTHERN    HEARTS 

hops,  drives,  and  picnics,  and  then  the  camp- 
meetings,  which  brought  out  all  the  county. 
She  saw  him  sometimes  in  attendance  on  his 
mother  there,  always  gentlemanly  and  good, 
where  the  other  boys  wrere  openly  rowdy.  She 
saw  him  in  the  store,  always  patient  with  the 
freaks  of  customers  and  with  the  cross  humors 
of  his  uncle. 

And  one  day  she  met  him  (and  her  heart  was 
touched)  carrying  along  the  road  a  little  crying 
child,  whose  bare  toes  were  crinkled  up  with 
the  hurt  from  a  sharp  stone.  The  ragamuffin 
sat  perched  upon  the  broad  shoulder  and 
peered  down  at  the  lady  with  eyes  of  cerulean 
blue.  He  hugged  his  friend  a  little  closer  but 
with  undiminished  confidence.  Albert  colored 
slightly,  but  walked  along  beside  the  stylish 
girl  without  apologizing  for  his  burden. 

"  Can't  I  do  something  for  the  little  fellow  ?  " 
she  asked  gently,  and  being  used  to  children  (she 
was  a  school  teacher),  she  saw  in  a  minute  what 
the  matter  was,  and  taking  from  her  purse  a 
piece  of  court-plaster,  she  made  Albert  set  him 


AN  A  WAKENING  38 1 

down  while  she  applied  it  to  the  cut.  If  her 
fingers  shrank  from  the  dirty  little  foot  neither 
of  her  watchers  saw  it. 

"  There,  little  man,  does  that  feel  better?" 

"  I  wants  ter  b'  toted,"  said  the  urchin,  irrel 
evantly. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Albert,  shouldering  him 
again.  "  Didn't  I  promise  to  carry  you  clear 
home  ?  But  if  the  lady  had  done  something 
for  me,  I'd  have  thanked  her,  heh?" 

But  the  child's  face  expressed  only  a  vacant 
sort  of  contentment. 

And  they  all  went  on  together  until  they 
reached  a  poor  house  where  a  woman  stood  at 
the  door,  looking  anxiously  up  and  down  the 
road.  As  her  boy  was  brought  to  her,  she 
caught  him  up,  with  a  shake  and  a  kiss  deliv 
ered  simultaneously, 

"  That's  jus'  like  ye,  Albert,"  she  said  gruffly. 
"  I've  been  ter'ble  worried  fur  th'  past  hour- 
feared  he'd  got  runned  over.  Yer  ma  well  ?  " 

"  Middling,  thank  you,  Mrs.  Smithers." 

Then    he   rubbed  his  handkerchief  over  his 


382  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

forehead  and  asked  Miss  Stretton  if  she  was 
going  "  to  town  "  this  hot  day. 

"  Yes,  I'm  trying  to  walk  off  a  restless  fit,  and 
I  have  a  letter  to  mail." 

"  Better  give  that  to  me.  See,  I've  picked 
up  three  or  four  along  the  road  and  got  half-a- 
dozen  commissions — hope  I  shan't  forget  'em." 

"Are  you  general  errand-boy?"  she  de 
manded  impatiently. 

"  You  wouldn't  want  me  to  be  unneigh- 
borly  ?  Besides,"  he  added  with  a  twinkle  in 
his  eye,  "  I  thought  you  found  fault  with  me 
for  not  being  useful !" 

"  Oh,  no,  not  in  that  way.  Don't  you  sup 
pose  I  see  that  you  are  useful  here,  that  every 
body  likes  you  and  depends  upon  you — but  it 
is  such  a  waste  of  yourself  to  be  busied  with 
such  little  things — there  are  larger  places  to  be 
filled  elsewhere' " 

"  And  larger  men  to  fill  them,"  he  said  seri 
ously.  "  There  ain't  as  much  to  me  as  you 
suppose.  It  seems  to  me  my  place  is  here, 
right  in  this  little  sleepy  village.  I  can  be  a 


AN  A  WAKENING  383 

help  to  my  uncle  and  to  others,  and  my  mother 
can't  do  without  me." 

"  Oh !  "  she  cried  sharply.  This  was  a  stum 
bling-block  she  had  to  recognize.  Yet  she  found 
that  he  hardly  understood  her.  She  wanted  to 
stir  him  up  to  discontent  with  himself  and  his 
surroundings,  so  that  he  might  be  led  to  en- 
large  his  mental  outlook.  The  thing  was  for 
him  first  to  become  enlightened,  aspiring,  su 
perior  to  his  friends — action  would  follow. 

Although  it  is  hard  for  a  man  to  follow  the 
rapid  deviations  of  a  woman's  mind,  yet  the 
most  phlegmatic  have  their  moments  of  in 
sight.  Miss  Stretton  had  revealed  a  great  deal 
more  than  she  was  aware  to  the  young  country 
man,  and  he  was  less  dull  than  he  seemed.  It 
came  to  him  that  there  was  something  that  he 
wanted  to  say,  but  all  his  ideas  grew  confused 
as  he  thought.  He  looked  around  with  an 
uncertain,  wistful  gaze.  He  was  only  a  poor 
man,  surrounded  by  commonplace,  meager 
things  ;  advantages  had  been  lacking  to  him  ; 
perhaps,  as  she  had  said,  he  had  not  improved 


384  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

his   chances.     And  yet  it  seemed  to  him  that 
he  had  done  his  duty. 

"  I  know  our  farmers'  lives  up  here  must 
seem  mean  to  you,"  he  said  slowly,  "poor  and 
small.  You  think  we  might  do  more  and  make 
more  out  of  ourselves.  Well,  maybe  we  might. 
I  think  that,  after  a  while,  we'll  find  new  things 
to  do.  I  thought  once  I'd  strike  out,  and  I 
went  to  Texas.  But  can  you  fancy  what  life 
is  down  there  among  the  cattle-drovers  ?  I 
couldn't  stand  it,  Miss  Stretton.  I  didn't  love 
money  well  enough  to  sink  myself  quite  so 
low.  And  so  I  came  back.  Maybe  you  think 
I  lay  'round  a  heap,  but  I  do  all  that  comes  in 
my  way,  and  somebody'd  have  to  do  it.  If  I 
was  ambitious,  I  s'pose  I'd  want  to  be  some 
thing  else  besides  a  country  storekeeper,  but  it 
seems  to  me  there's  more  love  in  my  heart  for 
this  poor  land  and  for  my  neighbors  than  for 
anything  else.  I'm  not  of  a  restless  disposi 
tion,  and  yet  I've  got  my  share  of  pride.  I'm 
not  old  yet," — the  fine  figure  straightening  a 
little,  involuntarily — "  and  maybe  after  a  while 


AN  A  WAKENING  385 

something   else   will   come  to   me  that  I  can 
do." 

"  And  you  are  content  to  wait  for  it — the 
chance — to  come,  are  you  ?  "  she  asked,  bend 
ing  her  earnest  gaze  upon  him. 

"  I  won't  quote  the  only  bit  of  Milton  I  re 
member,  but  I  believe  I  serve  a  useful  purpose 
even  while  I  wait  for  promotion — that  is,  what 
you  think  promotion." 

The  girl  was  silenced.  She  could  not  exactly 
understand  how  a  man  could  be  like  this,  yet 
in  the  midst  of  her  defeat  was  a  feeling  of 
triumph  in  him.  Through  the  far  niente  her 
energetic  mind  had  so  despised  there  came  the 
gleam  of  a  fine  thought,  a  real  purpose,  before 
which  her  woman's  nature  bowed,  rejoicing. 
Obeying  a  common  impulse,  they  lingered  in 
the  lane. 

"  They  need  a  new  teacher  in  this  district," 
said  Albert  abruptly,  and  looking  full  at  her. 
"  If  it  is  your  mission  to  put  energy  into  us, 
why  not  begin  the  missionary  work  there? 
Take  the  boys  young." 


386  SO  UTHEKN  HE  A  ft  TS 

She  had  no  reply  to  this  but  a  look  of  re 
proach.  He  had  put  away  her  friendship  for 
himself,  he  recommended  her  to  other  matters. 
Tacitly,  he  implied  that  she  was  incapable  of 
the  sacrifice  involved  in  his  suggestion.  It  wao 
ironical. 

She  turned  to  walk  on,  but  Albert  started 
and  caught  her  hand.  "  Don't  be  angry,  Miss 
Julia !  I  only  meant  that  it  would  be  less 
dangerous  with  them  than  it  has  been  with  me. 
I — I  am  more  stirred  than  you  would  like  me 
to  be " 

His  blazing  eyes  transfixed  her.  For  an 
instant  she  stared,  then  drew  her  hand  away 
and  put  it  up  to  her  face. 

"Yes,"  he  continued  brokenly,  "  I  know  it's 
no  use  to  speak,  you  couldn't  condescend  to 
this  paltry  existence — you  want  the  fulness 
and  brightness  of  the  city, — the  company  of  an 
educated  man.  There  isn't  anything  about  me 
that's  fit  to  associate  with  you.  Well  ?  I  must 
beg  pardon,  I  s'pose,  and  yet  I  couldn't  for 
bear  letting  you  know  that,  while  you've  been 


AN  A  WAKENING  38  7 

trying  to  put  some  vim  into  the  lazy  country 
fellow,  you've  waked  up  his  heart,  at  least." 

Miss  Stretton  uncovered  her  face.  They 
confronted  one  another — the  bright,  sweet  girl, 
the  handsome  youth,  aglow  with  passion. 

The  land  was  poverty-stricken,  the  promise 
small,  but  there  was  freshness,  beauty,  peace  all 
about.  "  He  is  good,  he  is  noble,"  she  thought. 
There  crept  into  her  face  something  that  amazed 
him,  but  he  did  not  stop  to  wonder  at  it.  He  saw 
fortune  sweeping  down  a  shower  of  gold  at  his 
feet,  and  it  was  no  time  to  question  her  benefi 
cence.  By  a  step  he  lessened  the  little  distance 
between  them,  and  the  two  shadows  melted 
into  one  along  the  sunny  lane. 

"  You  are  far  brighter  than  I,  Julia,"  he  mur 
mured  after  a  while,  "  though  your  reasoning 
has  never  moved  me  any.  But  if  you  love 
me ! — I  think  you  will  do  whatever  you  wish 
with  me." 

"  I  "didn't  mean  this,  at  all,"  she  returned, 
her  lovely  face  sparkling  with  tears  and  smiles 
both  at  once.  In  her  heart  she  felt  that  it  was 


388  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

her    nature,  not  his,  which  the  future  might 
change. 

Yet,  when  they  concluded  to  walk  on  to  the 
store,  she  looked  about  with  a  sense  of  respon 
sibility  and  an  eye  to  changes  to  come,  while 
he — his  face  flushed  with  happiness — lounged 
beside  her  in  the  old  indolent  way — unreproved. 


APPLE  BLOSSOMS 


APPLE  BLOSSOMS1 


IN  the  clean,  large  kitchen  of  a  Virginia 
farmhouse  sat  an  old  woman  alone,  knitting. 
She  had  been  pretty  once  ;  fifty  years  ago  that 
wrinkled  yellow  skin  had  been  called  "  creamy," 
and  the  scant  gray  hair  drawn  back  under  the 
plain  cap  had  been  a  shower  of  brown  curls. 
And  she  had  coquetted  with  Judge  Holt  and 
turned  away  from  him  at  the  last  to  marry  plain 
Nathan  Bennett,  living  with  him  in  rare  con 
tentment  for  two-score  years,  and  then  coming 
to  spend  the  remnant  of  her  days  with  her 
daughter  Ann.  Now  Ann,  too,  was  gone,  and 
only  the  children  were  left ;  Ben  and  Nancy, 
and  her  own  adopted  child,  Lura  Ann. 

She  smoothed  down  her  neat  gray  cashmere 
gown,  which  had  been  her  "  second  best  "  dress 
since  Ann's  death,  and  leaned  back  more  com- 

iCopyright,  1896,  by  "  The  Independent." 

391 


392  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

fortably  against  the  cushioned  surface  of  the 
splint  rocking-chair. 

"  They're  good  children,"  she  said  to  herself, 
— "  excepting  Nancy.  And  she's  not  so  bad 
as  might  be."  She  cast  a  satisfied  glance  at 
the  meadows  and  fields  stretching  as  far  as  her 
eyes  could  reach,  and  then  looked  lovingly  at 
the  dwarf  apple-trees  whose  branches  pressed 
against  the  window-shutters.  Some  of  the  pink 
blossoms  lay  on  the  ledge.  It  was  May.  The 
flies  were  buzzing,  the  sparrows  twittering,  as 
they  stole  cotton  from  the  body  of  a  doll  lying 
in  the  yard  and  flew  up  to  the  roof  with  it. 

A  little  girl  came  around  the  house  and  picked 
up  the  doll,  shook  it,  looked  up  at  the  eaves 
where  the  mother  sparrow  sat,  muttered  some 
thing  in  an  angry  tone,  and  entered  the  house, 
singing.  She  sang :  "  The  apples  were  ripe 
and  beginning  to  fall,  begin-ning  to  fall ! " 

"  Ah,  yes,"  said  her  grandmother,  "  you'll  see 
the  apples  fall  a  many  times,  but  I  shall  scarcely 
see  'em  more'n  once  more — once  or  twice  more, 
at  most.  Well,  well,  I'll  be  contented  to  die 


APPLE  BLOSSOMS  393 

if  only  I  can  live  to  see  my  boy  and  Lura  Ann 
•"  then  she  stopped,  meeting  the  child's 
bright  eyes. 

"  Lura  Ann  is  going  *o  marry  Sackford  Moss," 
said  the  child. 

"  An  angry  flush  came  over  the  old  woman's 
thin  face ;  she  jerked  her  knitting,  and  one  of 
her  needles  fell  to  the  floor. 

"  Now  you're  mad,  granny,  and  it's  wicked 
to  be  mad,  so  I  shan't  hand  you  your  knitting- 
needle,"  sang  the  little  girl,  in  a  silvery  voice. 

"  Then  you'll  have  no  stockings  to  wear  when 
the  biting  frost  comes ;  but  you  don't  care — 
you  don't  care.  'Tis  a  generation  that  thinks 
not  of  the  future,  but  works  its  will  in  the  pres 
ent,"  moaned  the  old  woman,  folding  her  hands 
together  hard. 

"  I'll  hand  you  your  needle  if  you'll  tell  Lura 
Ann  to  make  waffles  for  supper,"  said  the  sharp 
child  ;  but  her  grandmother  looked  upon  her 
with  disfavor  and  did  not  reply.  After  a  mo 
ment  the  little  girl  came  quietly  forward  and 
laid  the  needle  on  her  lap,  but  the  old  woman 


394  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

did  not  resume  her  knitting.  She  sat  with  her 
hands  folded,  and  looked  at  intervals  out  of 
the  window,  but  with  a  much-wrinkled  brow. 

A  door  opened,  and  Lura  Ann  came  in  with 
a  wide  straw  hat  on.  She  was  tall,  slim,  and 
fair,  with  deep  gray  eyes,  heavy-lidded  and 
long-lashed,  and  a  little  red  mouth  whose  short 
upper  lip  just  raised  itself  enough  to  give  a 
glimpse  of  small,  pearly  teeth.  She  looked  shy 
and  sweet. 

"  I  am  going  to  town,  grandaunt,"  she  said, 
timidly.  "  Shall  I  bring  you  some  more 
yarn  ?  " 

The  old  woman  straightened  herself  and 
looked  sternly  at  the  maiden.  "  Be  you  a-going 
to  marry  Sackford  Moss  ?  "  she  asked  shrilly. 

The  pretty  lips  closed  together,  and  no  an 
swer  came  from  them. 

"  She's  going  to  buy  her  wedding-gown  now," 
cried  the  child,  getting  up  quickly  from  her 
stool.  "  Say,  Lura  Ann,  can  I  go  with  you  ?  " 

"  You  stay  right  hyar,  Nancy,  and  take  care 
of  granny,"  said  Lura  Ann,  with  some  severity. 


APPLE  BLOSSOMS  395 

Then  she  went  out,  murmuring  to  herself  : 
"  They  all  think  the  same  thing." 

She  walked  steadily  out  through  the  front 
gate  and  along  the  road«to  town.  It  was  two 
miles  distant,  and  the  air  was  close  and  dusty. 
Her  little  black  shoes  were  soon  specked,  and 
the  hem  of  her  dress  gathered  soil  by  dipping 
against  them.  The  blue  merino  scarf  over  her 
shoulders  made  her  too  warm,  but  she  did  not 
dare  take  it  off,  because  it  covered  a  large  patch 
under  her  arm. 

A  handsome  road-wagon,  drawn  by  a  pair  of 
bay  horses,  dashed  up  suddenly  beside  her. 
The  driver  leaned  forward  and  touched  his  hat 
with  an  air  of  devotion. 

"  Just  in  time,  Lura  Ann,"  he  cried,  gaily. 
"  Come,  get  in,  and  I'll  drive  you  to  town  and 
wherever  else  you  want  to  go." 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  said  Lura  Ann. 

But  he  got  down  and  urged  her  cordially. 
The  high,  shaded  seat  looked  delightful.  The 
fine  horses  tossed  their  heads  and  pawed  im 
patiently.  The  long  road  stretched  out,  hot 


396  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

and  dusty.  Walking  she  would  get  to  town 
looking  like  a  fright,  and  it  would  take  much 
longer.  The  last  consideration  had  a  weight 
known  to  nobody  but  herself.  She  let  Sack- 
ford  help  her  up  into  the  seat  and  draw  the 
linen  duster  over  her  knees.  Covertly  he  ex 
amined  her  dress. 

"Going  to  shop?"  he  asked;  adding  care 
lessly  :  "  Burns  has  got  in  quite  a  lot  of  new 
goods.  My  sisters  were  in  last  week  and 
bought  a  carriage  load.  But  they  are  nothing 
to  what  is  in  the  city.  I  am  going  to  the  city 
soon.  Emily  has  been  teasing  me  to  buy  her 
a  lace  dress.  How  pretty  you  would  look  in  a 
lace  dress,  Lura  Ann,  with  a  little  lace  bonnet 
on  your  soft  brown  hair,  trimmed  with  rose 
buds  just  the  color  of  your  lips  !  " 

Lura  Ann's  cheeks  grew  pinker  than  the 
bunch  of  apple  blossoms  at  her  throat.  "Your 
sisters  and  I  air  different  people,"  she  said,  in 
her  plaintive,  soft  voice. 

Sackford  feasted  his  eyes  in  the  blush.  The 
veins  in  his  short,  thick  neck  began  to  swell, 


APPLE  BLOSSOMS  397 

and  he  shifted  the  reins  to  his  right  hand  and 
laid  the  left  across  the  back  of  the  seat.     But 
Lura  Ann  sat  up  very  straight. 
.  "  Lean  back  and  be  comfortable,"  he  urged. 

"  Take  away  your  arm  then,  please,"  faltered 
Lura  Ann.  And  just  then  Ben  Falconer,  com 
ing  across  a  field  in  his  coarse  working  clothes, 
saw  her  drooping  with  the  blush  upon  her 
cheek  and  Sackford's  arm  about  her  waist. 
He  stood  still,  and  looked  after  the  handsome 
team  with  a  frown  and  a  sigh.  Lura  Ann  had 
not  seen  him,  but  Sackford  had,  and  secretly 
blessed  the  hour.  Yet  he  did  not  dare  kiss 
Lura  Ann,  as  he  had  intended. 

"  Where  shall  I  take  you  first  ? "  he  asked, 
as  they  entered  the  town. 

"  To  Mr.  Wright's,  if  you  please." 

"  Of  course — he  holds  some  little  money  be 
longing  to  her,  I've  heard,"  thought  Sack- 
ford. 

"  Don't  wait  for  me,"  she  said,  but  he  waited, 
and  she  was  gone  a  long  time.  When  she  came 
out  she  was  pale,  as  if  she  had  been  worried. 


398  SO  UTHERN  HE  A  R  TS 

Yet  she  looked  resolute,  and  spoke  in  a  tone 
that  had  lost  all  its  timidity. 

"  Take  me  to  the  old  red  brick  house  at  the 
end  of  the  street,"  she  said,  eagerly,  "  and  oh 
be  quick ! " 

"  Why,  what's  the  attraction  in  that  old 
rookery — a  new  milliner  ?  "  jested  Sackford. 
He  could  not  conceive  the  idea  of  a  woman's 
being  interested  in  anything  but  clothes. 

Lura  Ann's  slim  hand  closed  tightly  under 
her  shawl  about  the  old  purse  that  had  come 
out  empty  and  was  now  full  to  bursting  with 
currency.  Five  hundred  dollars  !  She  was  of 
age  to-day,  and  had  drawn  it  in  her  own  name, 
every  cent.  Milliner !  Yes,  her  hat  was  shabby, 
but  no  matter  about  that. 

Sackford  was  smiling  to  himself  at  her  ex 
citement  as  he  helped  her  out  on  to  the  stone 
step  before  the  old  red  brick  house.  She  rang 
the  bell,  and  there  was  no  response.  Her 
courage  seemed  to  be  oozing  away  as  she 
waited. 

"  Better  come  back,"  called  Sackford.     But 


APPLE  BLOSSOMS  399 

she  shook  her  head  and  applied  herself  to  the 
bell  again.  After  a  moment  a  shuffling  step 
approached  and  the  door  opened  a  few  inches, 
allowing  a  man's  head  to  be  seen.  He  was  old 
and  grim-looking.  Lura  Ann  said  something 
low  and  timidly,  and  after  a  look  of  keen  scru 
tiny  he  let  her  in. 

Sackford  felt  an  indescribable  reluctance  to 
have  her  go  in. 

After  about  five  minutes  she  appeared  at  the 
door  with  a  paper  in  her  hand,  and  beckoned 
him.  He  sprang  out  quickly,  tied  his  horses, 
and  stepped  into  the  hall  beside  her. 

"  Oh,  please  see  if  that  is  all  right,"  she 
entreated,  putting  a  legal  paper  in  his  hand. 
"You  are  a  lawyer,  and  he — this  gentleman, 
said  to  let  you  see  it." 

Sackford  glanced  from  it  to  her,  saw  her  total 
unconsciousness  of  anything  out  of  the  way, 
frowned,  bit  his  lip,  and  examined  the  document 
with  care. 

"  It  is  all  right,"  he  then  said.  "  It  is  a  full 
release.  Is  this  what  you  want  ?  " 


400  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

"  Yes,  oh,  yes,  thank  you  !  and  I  am  much 
obliged  to  you,  sir,"  she  added,  sweetly,  to  the 
grim  old  man  who  stood  looking  on  from  the 
background. 

He  bowed  sardonically.  "  The  obligation  is 
on  my  side,  young  lady,"  he  said. 

"By  Jove!  It  is  on  somebody  else's  side," 
thought  Sackford,  as  he  put  Lura  Ann  back 
into  the  vehicle ;  adding,  aloud,  "  I  don't  like 
this." 

"  Ah,  but  you  don't  know,"  said  Lura  Ann, 
pleadingly.  Her  long  lashes  grew  moist.  "  It 
is  the  wish  of  grandaunt's  heart  to  have  the 
farm  free  from  this  mortgage.  I  always  felt  as 
if  the  debt  had  been  made  because  of  me.  She 
took  me  when  father  died — I  was  a  tiny  child 
of  three — and  oh,  they  have  always  been  so 
good  to  me! " 

Sackford's  frown  did  not  soften.  It  was  sur 
prising  how  surly  his  shrewd,  coarse  face  be 
came.  "  But  whose  is  the  farm  ? "  he  asked. 
"That  release  was  made  out  to  Ben  Falconer." 

"Yes,  but   it  is  just  the  same.     Grandaunt 


APPLE  BLOSSOMS  401 

made  over  her  share  of  the  farm  to  him,  and 
he  cares  for  all  of  us.  He  is  the  best  man  in 
the  world — my  cousin  Ben." 

"  The  world — what  do  you  know  of  the 
world  ?  "  said  Sackford.  "  But,  see  here,  Lura 
Ann,  do  you  understand  ?  You  have  given 
away  all  your  little  fortune  and  left  yourself 
penniless." 

"  Yes,"  said  Lura  Ann,  simply.  There  was 
something  in  her  face  that  checked  further 
speech  upon  his  part.  She  was  a  foolish,  im 
provident  child,  and  rather  too  confiding  to 
ward  this  cousin  Ben  of  hers,  but  she  was  very 
pretty — wonderfully  pretty — and,  after  all,  he 
had  money  enough.  If  five  hundred  dollars 
had  rid  her  of  her  sense  of  obligation,  the  price 
was  cheap.  A  sigh  came  here,  for  Sackford 
Moss  did  not  love  to  part  with  money.  But 
feeling  that  he  had  better  put  this  subject  out 
of  his  mind,  he  smoothed  his  face  and  tried  to 
regain  his  former  jovial,  easy  bearing.  Lura 
Ann  heard  his  talk  as  if  it  sounded  from  a  far- 
off  country.  But  suddenly  there  was  a  ques- 
26 


402  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

tion  ;  it  brought  her  with  a  start  to  a  sense  of 
her  surroundings.  His  face  was  bent  down 
close  to  hers ;  his  breath — she  shuddered  and 
turned  her  head.  Then  the  answer  came,  clear 
and  final.  What  could  he  do  after  that  but 
whip  up  the  horses  and  hasten  on  ? 

At  the  farm  gate  he  let  her  down  and  drove 
away  without  a  backward  glance.  A  spray  of 
withered  apple  blossoms  fell  from  her  dress  into 
the  dust,  and  his  wheel  passed  over  it. 

But  she  walked  up  the  path  with  a  step  like 
the  toss  of  thistledown  and  a  heart  as  light. 

The  old  woman  was  again  looking  from  the 
window.  She  nodded  kindly,  but  her  brow 
was  careworn.  "  Nancy  laid  the  fire,"  she  said. 
"  It's  five  o'clock.  I  think  it's  going  to  rain. 
Ben  has  worked  too  hard  lately.  He's  in  his 
room  with  a  headache." 

"  I'll  get  tea  in  a  minute,"  said  Lura  Ann. 
"But  first,  grandaunt,  look  hyar!"  She  laid 
off  her  hat  and  scarf,  and  came  and  knelt  on 
the  stool  at  the  old  woman's  feet.  "  See,"  and 
she  opened  the  paper.  "  It  is  a  release  from 


APPLE  BLOSSOMS  403 

the  mortgage !  It  is  my  gift  to  you,  grand- 
aunt,  bought  with  the  money  uncle  left  me. 
The  farm  is  free  !  " 

The  old  woman's  hands  trembled  as  she  laid 
them  on  the  beautiful  young  head.  "The 
Lord  bless  you,  child  !  "  she  murmured.  But 
in  a  moment  came  the  after-thought.  "  Lura 
Ann,  it  has  taken  everything !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  You  haven't  a  dollar  left  to  buy  your  wed 
ding-gown  ! " 

The  stair  door  opened,  and  Ben  came  down 
from  his  room,  carrying  a  little  hand-mirror  in 
a  carved  wooden  frame.  He  was  a  fine  speci 
men  of  young  manhood,  tall,  straight,  and 
strong.  His  dark  brown  eyes  showed  intelli 
gence  and  depth  of  feeling.  Over  his  features 
— naturally  good — was  now  cast  the  reflection 
of  that  victory  which  makes  a  man  "  greater 
than  he  that  taketh  a  city."  He  advanced  with 
an  air  of  cheerfulness. 

"  Lura  Ann,  I  did  not  forget  that  this  is 
your  birthday.  I  carved  this  frame  for  you 
myself,  and  I  wish  you " 


404  ,         SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

"  Ben !  "  cried  his  grandmother.  "  Lura 
Ann  has  bought  off  the  mortgage  !  " 

"  And  I'm  going  to  light  the  fire  with  it," 
cried  Lura  Ann  a  little  tremulously,  and  spring 
ing  up. 

But  Ben  came  and  took  it  from  her  quickly. 
He  did  not  comprehend  the  legal  phrases  as 
Sackford  had  done,  but  he  gathered  the  sense. 
His  fine  eyes  began  to  brighten  and  glow  as 
they  rested  on  his  cousin's  face,  now  averted 
and  blushing. 

"  Lura  Ann,  let  me  see  your  wedding-gown," 
exclaimed  Nancy,  coming  in  ;  and  Lura  Ann~ 
grew  rose  red,  but  she  made  a  violent  effort  to 
free  herself  from  this  wretched  mistake. 

"I  haven't  got  any — I'm  not  going  to  have 
any  !  "  she  cried  hysterically,  turning  to  strike 
a  match  to  the  fire.  "  What  do  I  want  of  a 
wedding-gown  when  I'm  not  going  to  be 
married  ?  " 

"  But  Sackford  Moss  said "  began  Nancy, 

with  staring  eyes. 

"  Bother   Sackford  Moss !  "  said  Lura  Ann, 


APPLE  BLOSSOMS  405 

pettishly,  trembling  with  nervousness  under 
Ben's  grave  eyes. 

"  He  said  he  was  going  to  take  you  away 
from  us  !  "  finished  the  persistent  child. 

"  Well,  he  isn't !  "  said  Lura  Ann  emphati 
cally.  Then  she  would  have  liked  to  flee  to  her 
room,  but  Ben  was  still  standing  before  her. 

"  Nancy,"  he  said,  in  singularly  happy  tones, 
"  g°>  g6*  m  the  young  chickens,  quick.  Don't 
you  see  how  fast  the  rain  is  coming?"  And 
Nancy,  who  always  obeyed  her  brother,  went. 

Then  Ben,  conscious  of  the  whole  evening 
before  him,  let  Lura  Ann  get  supper  and  clear 
it  away,  before  supplementing  by  a  single  word 
the  tender,  hopeful  look  in  his  eyes. 

But  an  hour  later,  when  the  shower  had 
passed,  they  stood  together  on  the  stoop,  which 
was  covered  with  fallen  apple  blossoms.  The 
clouds  were  gone  and  the  sky  was  clear  blue, 
except  for  a  trail  of  gold  in  the  west.  The 
fields  lay  green  and  wet.  They  looked  at  sky 
and  fields,  and  at  last  into  each  other's  eyes, 
and  there  their  gaze  rested. 


406  SOUTHERN  HEARTS 

"  How  sweet  the  air  is  after  the  rain,"  said 
the  old  woman. 

"  It  is  the  apple  blossoms,"  said  Ben,  from 
the  stoop  ;  and  gathering  up  a  handful  he  let 
them  fall  in  a  shower  over  Lura  Ann's  head. 


THE   END. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

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